The Undead Young
by Kashii Ai
Summary: AU. Inspired by Hollywood Undead's song "Young." The Children of Death are one of the most merciful and feared gangs on the streets of Death City. They're ruled under the caring hand of Death the Kid, the lost son of Shinigami. KidxMaka.
1. Prologue: Seven Lives

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

_The Undead Young_ Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

_Young_ lyrics copyright (c) 2008 Hollywood Undead. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics

* * *

**A/N:** Hello! New readers, welcome! Old readers, good to see you again~!

I am Kashii Ai, and I am pleased to present _The Undead Young_. I first published this story way back in 2009, when the SE fandom was still young, and there were less then a thousand fics in the archives. Though it has very few updates, this story has become of the most beloved by my readers. Therefore, I have decided to allow this story the attention I (and the fans) believe it deserves.

The first three chapters have been revamped and polished to reflect a more composed body of work, with updates to grammar and dialogue, as well as the plot (early on when I first wrote the story, I was not sure how it would turn out so I had to go back and make changes). I have prewritten this story up to chapter eight, which means I only have four chapters left of the twelve this story will eventually be.

Updates will be every two weeks, and I hope and pray that I have time to write those last four chapters before my prewriting runs out, though that's not a guarantee.

So, without further adieu, please enjoy _The Undead Young!_

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**Prologue:**** Seven Lives**

_We are young, / we have heart. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We are strong, / we don't belong. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / I see the children in the rain,_

_/ like the parade before the pain. / I see the love, I see the hate, / I see this world that we can make. / I see the life, I see the sky, / give it all to see you fly. / Yes, we wave this flag of hatred, / but you're the ones who made it!_

"_Watch the beauty of all our lies, / passing right before my eyes. / I hear the hate in all your words, / all the wars to make us hurt. / We get so sick, oh so sick, / we never wanted all this,/ medication for the kids with no reason to live! / So we / March to the drums of the damned as we come! / Watch it burn in the sun-we are numb! / We are young, / we have heart. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We are strong, / we don't belong. / Born in this world as it all falls apart._

"_As we walk among these shadows, / in these streets, these fields of battle, / take it up, we wear the medal, / raise your hands with burning candles. / Hear us whisper in the dark, / in the rain you see the spark, / feel the beating of our hearts, / fleeting hope as we depart. / All together, walk alone / against all we've ever known. / All we've ever really wanted / was a place to call our home. / But you take all we are; / the innocence of our hearts. / Made to kneel before the alter as you tear us apart!_

"_So we / march to the drums of the damned as we come! / Watch it burn in the sun—we are numb! / We are young, / we have Heart. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We are strong, / we don't belong. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We will fight (we will fight)! / Or we will fall (we will fall)! / 'Til the angels save us all. / We will fight (we will fight)! / Or we will fall (we will fall)! / 'Til the angels save us all. / We will fight (we will fight)! / Or we will fall (we will fall)! / 'Til the angels save us all. / We will fight (we will fight)! / Or we will fall (we will fall)! / 'Til the angels save us all._

"_We are young, / we have heart. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We are strong, / we don't belong. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We are young, / we have heart. / Born in this world as it all falls apart. / We are strong, / we don't belong. / Born in this world as it all falls apart._

Life in the slums of Death City was harsh. Every aberration of society walked these hellish streets, from prostitutes to gangbangers to drugees. The youths that lived on the Death Circuit Plaza were the toughest, the best survivors. The Death Circuit Plaza was the central hub of the city gang scene, everyone who was anyone frequented this area, located in the center of the slums, between two tall abandoned skyscrapers, beautifully apocalyptic in their ruin, their tragedy. It was a market for drug dealers to sell their goods, prostitutes to sell their services, and other street kids looking to make some money, any way they could think of. It was the site of gangfights, showdowns, and shootings. Being an accepted member on the Death Circuit Plaza was a double-edged sword, both a privilege and a danger. Only the best at surviving could forge their way on the infamous illegal market and gang battlefield, and live to see the next sunrise. There were many different gangs that populated the area, constantly battling, grappling, fighting for a way to obtain money, find drugs, struggle to stay alive.

Among these gangs walked the Children of Death. The gang was headed by the renowned Death the Kid, the famous lost son of Shinigami-sama, the God of Death himself. The young god had arrived on the streets after his father had been brutally murdered when Kid was ten, and his son had been left at an orphanage, with no relatives, and no one to comfort him. He had run away at thirteen, after Kid had grown tired and sick of the mediocre care and constant abuse of his caretakers. Yes, he had been abused, multiple times; verbally, physically, mentally. He had quickly risen through the ranks, and earned himself the nickname "Reaper," for the way he and his gang purged the pre-Kishin that oftentimes ravaged the streets, and because he picked up the souls of those who had died, and delivered them into eternity, on life's other side, with a blessing and a proper funeral. The young shinigami was respected and feared as a being not to be messed with, despite the mercy he was known to show. Despite this, there were still the idiots who thought it was fun to fuck with Mr. Death.

The gang was unusually merciful, and better off than most. Kid was an artist, he offered to do portraits for rich people walking by in the outer slums and beyond, for twenty dollars each, as well as sell his artwork that he had previously produced. Kid's girl, Maka Albarn, was a dancer at the Crescent Nightclub, where the entertainment was not strippers, but real street dancers, all girls employed under-the-table, all mostly living out of the streets. Maka's half-brother, Soul Eater Evans, was a musician. He and his guitar, which he called "Betsy," were famous in the outer slums for the lovely performances he gave. Black Star and Tsubaki Nakatsukasa offered fighting lessons to some of the wealthier streets population.

The Children were not as harsh as some other gangs. They tried their best to survive on their own, not to steal, not to cause pain. They found beauty in the little things. Never took anything for granted. Showed mercy to those who would show none to them. And they were always searching for a way not to crash, an escape from this labyrinth of ruined buildings and drug dealers, asking for a way to stay alive, just one day at a time, always praying to witness the next breathtaking sunrise.

Seven teenagers, including Kid, made up the Children of Death. Seven lives that fate bound together, in a strong, unbreakable bond. Seven lives tragedy tore apart, a raging storm of upheaval, of chaos. Seven lives hope would build again, healing open wounds, closing weeping sores, and allowing them to find themselves once again.

Seven lives intertwined, different strings that stretched into the future, eventually bound together to meet. Seven lives denying themselves so much promise, so much beauty, so much potential. Seven lives destined for something better than they had, careening towards tragedy, towards growth, towards strength, towards a brighter, better future. Seven lives told for the innocently corrupted, the tragically hopeful.

For the young.

This story is their story.


	2. Deprivation of Innocence

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

_The Undead Young_ Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

_Young_ lyrics copyright (c) 2008 Hollywood Undead. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics

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**Chapter 1:**** Deprivation of Innocence**

_We are young,  
__we have Heart.  
__Born in this world as it all falls apart.  
__We are strong,  
__we don't belong.  
__Born in this world as it all falls apart._

Death the Kid had grown up in a wealthy family; he was the son of Death, after all. Kid was excited to someday take over the running of the Shinigami Buki Shokunin Senom. Shibusen; it was his and his father's dream. Shinigami-sama, as a single father, had dearly loved his one and only son, constantly doting on Kid, giving his heir the best nurture, the most love, a father could give. The young shinigami had grown up taking many lessons for his future role; shinigami martial arts, soul study and theology, study of the universe, Soul Resonance mechanisms.

His father had been a wise man, roundabout in a way, but he never contradicted himself, was always kind and respectful of other's opinions, always told Kid about the best things—about the workings of the universe, the functions of the body, the beauty and intimacy of a soul resonance. Kid's father had been his best friend and most favorite person on Earth, their world they built together was his everything.

This all changed the night Shinigami-sama was murdered. Kid was ten. He'd had a nightmare that night—maybe he had been canny to what was happening in the room next to his—and had entered his father's room, to find him in a bloodied mess on the bed, throat slit open, multiple stabs to the chest.

He couldn't stop screaming.

The question of what to do with the young heir to Death's legacy circulated for quite some time, debated over by the Nevada government. Finally, they decided to put Kid in an orphanage, and leave him until he was old enough to inherit his future title of Shinigami-sama. Meanwhile, a man named Dr. Franken Stein, a trusted friend and colleague of Kid's father, took over the ruling of Shibusen, and the passage of souls. In the orphanage, Kid was cared for in a mediocre fashion, at best. Initially, it had been pretty okay. He had people who comforted him, said they were sorry. He made some friends, got along well with the other children.

Then a new teacher arrived. She was a strange woman, eccentric and withdrawn, but she showed kindness to the children. She started hitting Kid regularly after two weeks, when she would come in during the morning to bring him breakfast. When people asked about his bruises, he lied and said he had fallen, or made other excuses. The other adults noticed and probably suspected, but nobody did anything about it.

This apathy was not lost on Kid, and it made him angry. When he finally told one of the other teachers about it, the man didn't believe him, saying he had probably made it up, and the bruises and cuts were from playing outside. The young shinigami endured the abuse for three more years.

Kid ran away at thirteen, sick and tired of being beaten every morning. He spent the day wandering around with the few belongings he had at the orphanage, wondering where to go, where to sleep, where to find food. That night, he lost his virginity. His stomach had been growling loudly, and he had been near the outer slums of Death City in the fading evening light, wondering where he could possibly find food, when a young man named Terrien, about sixteen or seventeen, had offered to take Kid in for food and shelter. He had been gullible then, and had stupidly agreed without suspicion or precaution.

When Terrien invited Kid into his bedroom, the young shinigami had gawped in shock for a moment, then promptly said no. Terrien had not been asking Kid—it had been a command. The poor boy discovered this when he was pushed into the bedroom and forced onto the bed. Afterward, Terrien "awarded" his victim with a delicious, scrumptious meal. The young shinigami accepted it, planning to leave after he ate. But Terrien wanted him for the night. Again, Kid refused. Again, he was raped. He was given breakfast and lunch the next day. Kid simply submitted after that, in exchange for food and shelter. He left after a week, escaping when Terrien wasn't home.

He lost his virginity like that, so forcibly, without choice or love. A gift he was supposed to willingly give, in order to consummate his commitment to someone he loved, had been stolen from him in the course of a single incident, brutal and harsh. Because his first sexual experience had been with a male, Kid believed for a while that he was gay. Indeed, he found himself actually _becoming_ attracted to the same sex.

He met the Thompsons the day he left Terrien's house, and they immediately took him in. He was apprehensive of being assaulted, but they were kind to him. He felt more comfortable with them, anyhow, seeing how they were only a few years older than him, fourteen and sixteen.

He had been delighted when he discovered that they were double-team guns, and he could wield them symmetrically. He had then taken on the mantle of his father, purging the streets of pre-Kishin to build two Deathscythes, and passing on the souls of those who died in the slums. He, Liz, and Patti met Black Star and Tsubaki a year later, a ninja weapon and meister who were exiled from their community for a crime they did not commit. They agreed to help Kid in his construction of Deathscythes, thus, the Children of Death were born.

Then he met her last year, at fifteen—his love, his life.

It had been a bad night. He and Tsubaki had been alone, out on the street where Kid had set up to draw people's portraits for twenty dollars. It had been good business that day—they had made over two hundred dollars off their customers. Kid was beginning to think about packing up, as the crowd was waning, and Tsubaki was farther away, in order to ask some people if they wanted their portrait done.

He had looked up as he heard her scream, and saw that she was being dragged into a back alley by five men. Kid had pursued them, leaving his art supplies behind. They were threatening to gang-rape her, when Kid offered himself instead, sincerely hoping they weren't all straight. They agreed, saying he was an item just as pretty as the girl. The sex had been rough and brutal; no love, no tenderness.

Kid sat against the alley wall for a long time after, alone. Tsubaki had left at Kid's insistence. The young shinigami broke down and cried, letting all his negative emotions go. He was so sick of being taken advantage of like this. He wanted to make love to someone, not be brutally fucked for physical perks, or for a favor or food. He needed to find a guy who would love him, care for him. That was rare on these streets. Most men on the streets were horrid monsters. It was rare to find a guy who was kind, and even rarer to find one who was bisexual or gay, like him.

It was these thoughts that crossed his mind when _she_ walked up. He wiped away his tears and raised his eyes, wary. A petite girl dressed in a leather jacket and a red plaid miniskirt stood before him. She looked about five foot two or three, her eyes were huge and green, beautiful and fathomed, like emeralds set into her face. Her hair, pulled into pigtails, was dark blonde, a sandy color, and it was fine and floaty and delicate. Strays surrounded her head and reflected the light of street lamps, a soft halo of gold. He thought she was pretty. Did he just think that? That was strange. He wasn't supposed to find women attractive. She bent her body in half, and sat down next to him.

"Are you okay? I heard someone crying."

He shrugged. "Yeah. I'm okay now."

She pulled out a water bottle and a pill bottle, empty except for two. "I have some E. D'you want some?"

Why not? He felt like shit right now. "Sure."

Kid had never tried ecstasy before. He had begun smoking a year previously, when the secondhand smoke from Liz and Patti had finally compelled him enough to try it. He had tried marijuana several times, as he found it was a good way to get rid of his artist's block. The release of being high gave him a whole new perception of things. Pot made him float listlessly, hazy and relaxed, like waves crashing on the shore of the ocean.

Ecstasy was like opening the doors, and letting your senses flood you. Everything heightened, colors became blindingly bright, sounds crashed loudly against his ears, his sense of smell exploded. And he became highly self-aware, too, his brain growing to its farthest reaches, expanding, exploring. Who knew his inside was so huge? Next to him, the girl had taken the other pill.

Her name was Maka.

* * *

They began to talk, about everything.

She and her brother, Soul Eater Evans, had been raised on music the way other children are raised on food. Soul was singing ever since he could first remember, and his little sister danced before she walked. They had grown up together with Soul's mom; Maka was the result of an affair their father, Spirit, had; Soul was the child of the legitimate marriage. There was only a year between them, as Maka had obviously been a surprise.

They had lived alone with Soul's mother for several years, who had been abusive, and he had often protected his baby sister from the assaults, taking the beating himself. Still, she said Soul refused to carry his father's name, who abandoned his mother for other women, taking on his mother's maiden name, instead. Better an abusive parent than an apathetic one.

Maka's mother had been a kind woman, Soul would frequently visit her along with Maka, and she had indulged the artistic talents they had both inherited from their father. She paid for Soul's piano and guitar lessons, and gave him his much loved acoustic guitar, which he affectionately called Betsy. She had also taught Maka to dance, as she had been a dancer herself.

However, they remained in the household of Soul's mother, as Maka's mother would have no legal custody over Soul, and Maka did not want to be separated from him. They had run away at fourteen and fifteen, determined to make their own way on the streets as meister and weapon.

"Do you know who I am?"

A wry smile, and she reached up and pushed his black-and-white bangs from his forehead. "A lost little boy."

"Haha. I'm a Shinigami."

Her eyes landed on his, her pupils dilated to the point where he could see his reflection, under effect of E.

"I was rich, once," Kid continued.

"I grew up poor."

"Of course you did."

She tilted her head, curious. "You sound bitter."

He stared at her for a moment, before he watched the far side of the street. "None of this would have happened under my rule."

"Ah." She sounded very detached—he wasn't sure if it was the drugs, or her personality.

Kid stared at the lines in his palms, and he closed his hands into fists. "I saved my friend tonight. I was crying because I—" He stopped. She probably didn't want to hear this.

"I lost mine to a guy who didn't love me."

"Haha. I'm gay."

"I'm straight."

"Does love exist?" Kid proposed the question rhetorically, but she answered it anyway. She was that type of girl.

"I think maybe it does. Because I met you."

The comment took Kid aback, so surprised that she would say something so forward. She was a very sweet girl, tender and heartfelt, for someone with a hard past. And she was just so pretty. Without thinking, he began to lean towards her. She squeaked in surprise as he kissed her, tenderly and sweetly, and looked confused when he drew back.

"I thought you were gay!"

Kid shrugged. "So did I."

She smiled, and kissed him again, the sweet taste of vanilla, and he realized he had never wanted anything so badly. He deepened the kiss, pulling her towards him. He wasn't sure if this lust was the ecstasy, or if he really was falling for her. He debated with himself as she kissed him up his neck, nipping his skin, pressing her warm, moist tongue over his muscles. He moaned, he had never experienced anything sexual that felt so good, so correct.

She kissed him on the lips again, and she tasted sweet and lovely, as their tongues intertwined. She had a nice body—at least he thought, this was so strange, so _new_—slender, pleasing curves, small, soft breasts. They began to undress each other. The sex was hot and sweet. Kid discovered that he was a passionate and affectionate lover, molding over her soft, delicate body with his hands, kissing her tenderly.

Afterward, she asked him if he'd ever had straight sex before. He said no, and she was surprised. Apparently, this was the best she'd ever had. Kid fervently agreed. He took her home with him, and they made love several more times. He had expected it to be too good to last, just a simple, very sweet, one-night stand. So when she was there the next morning, when he woke up, smiling at him dreamily with tender bedroom eyes, a silent, unspoken agreement was forged between them. Kid was clearly not gay, so he settled for bi. They were lovers. No questions, no explanation. Kid asked her, along with her brother, to join the Children. She said yes immediately.

It had been like that for a year since.

* * *

Maka Albarn watched Death the Kid as he leaned against the wall and surveyed the people who walked by in the late afternoon light, waving or nodding to those he knew between pulls on his cigarette. The leader of the Children of Death was a renowned figure on the Death Circuit Plaza, respected by many, feared by some, known by all. The young shinigami had highly distinctive features; alabaster skin, black hair disrupted by three straight parallel lines.

And the feature Maka loved the most, the one that had drawn her to him in the first place: his huge, slanted, yellow-gold eyes. She had known the moment she saw his eyes—Death the Kid was worth a lot. She had discovered this when they began to talk, about everything, something, nothing. It had been one of the best nights of her life, that evening they first met . . .

"Oi. D'you wanna share?" He was holding a new, unsmoked cigarette between his lips, staring at her through his bangs, ready to light it.

Maka nodded. "Sure."

She watched as he opened the silver lighter, which was engraved with the icon of a simplified skull, and a bright flame breathed into life, flickering and existing against the flutter of Kid's breath. He lit the cigarette, inhaled the smoke, and handed the cig to her as he exhaled, gray smoke pouring from his pale pink lips. She took it between her index and middle fingers and pulled a drag from it, tasting nicotine and smoke. It was also slightly flavored—it tasted like chocolate. Kid had bought the fancier Camels, again. She didn't particularly like this kind.

"Is this flavored Camel?" She handed it to him for his fix.

He shrugged and inhaled the smoke. "Yeah . . ." She glowered. "What? I like them, okay?"

He looked so cute and silly that Maka couldn't help but laugh and kiss his soft, full lips as he handed the Camel back to her. "I like the Marlboros the best."

He sighed. "But those are the most _expensive_."

"I know. But maybe we could afford them this week."

Kid shrugged as he took the cigarette between his fingers. "I don't know. Somehow, we're down by seventy dollars. Soul mentioned something about some new dealer . . ."

Maka shrugged at the mention of her half-brother. "I think he met someone at Crescent last week. A girl."

"Really?" He handed Maka the Camel, which was halfway finished, and a kiss on her cheekbone. "Is she the dealer?"

The petite girl shrugged. "I don't know . . . I'll ask him."

She began to hand the cigarette back to him, when he broke out in a dreadful, rasping cough. Kid wheezed and hacked as his throat stung—it felt like it was devouring itself. He put a hand to his mouth and leaned against the brick wall, and eventually coughed up a most disgusting wad of phlegm into his hand.

"Yegch."

Maka rolled her eyes and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. "Here."

He took it and wiped his hand, watching Maka smoke away more and more of the cigarette. "I'm not done, you know." He reached for it, but she stepped away and kept it from his grasp.

"No. Not after that. You know what I've told you about how much you smoke!" He glared stubbornly, then laughed as the much taller and stronger boy grabbed her around the waist and lifted the small girl over his shoulder, potato-sack style, her upper torso, arms, and head over his back, her long, lovely legs sticking out before him—too bad she was wearing shorts today.

"_Hey_! Put me down!" She pounded on his back, the cigarette held between her clenched teeth.

He cringed as she shouted in his ear, and laughed again. "No! C'mon, Maka, it won't be that bad."

He felt her fold her arms as best she could across his back. "Your health is important."

"I'm immortal. It's not gonna kill me, darling," he said sweetly, tracing the finger of his free hand down her soft thigh.

An arm stuck out in front of his face, and a finished cigarette dropped out of her hand. "Put it out."

"Aw, darling, you're no fun."

He mashed out the cigarette underfoot, put Maka down, and pulled out his pack. Before he could pull another cigarette out, Maka grabbed it from him and ran.

"Oi! Get back here!"

The shinigami ran after his girlfriend, grinning like a maniac, dodging people as rapidly as she did, turning corners, keeping up with the fast girl every step of the way. She turned into an alley ahead of him, where she would probably have nowhere to go, silly girl. He slowed down, and leaned against the wall, gasping. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Damn this nicotine addiction, and damn his chemical-resistant shinigami body! His super-natural body processed the nicotine—or any other drug he chose—faster than a normal human's, so he had to smoke more frequently, in order to get his much-needed dose.

He regained enough breath back to stand on his own again, and came away from the wall. A scream rang out from the alley. Maka! He ran around the corner, and stopped. Maka was cornered into a wall at the back of the alley, surrounded by three dangerous-looking men. Kid's hands clenched, and his jaw hardened. How dare someone attempt to touch his girl!

"Hey! What do you punks think you're doing?"

They turned and stared at the fierce young god. He could always tell if people knew who he was, by their reactions of fear or respect. These three just smiled, and one licked the knife he was holding. Damn bastards! He hated it when people decided it was time to gamble with his raging shinigami temper.

"Who d'you think you are? We're just havin' a little fun."

Kid automatically shifted into a martial arts fighting stance, by sheer force of habit. The three men chuckled at his shift in weight. "Ohohoho! He thinks he's somethin' else!"

"Stupid little punk. You really think you can take us?"

Kid sighed. "Just leave her alone, please_._ I'm not looking to pick a fight."

"Oh, okay. Then you don't care . . ."

One of the men grabbed Maka, who thrashed and screeched. Kid tensed. The man pinned her against the wall, and tried to kiss her, but he had been too stupid to pin her arms down, and she punched him in the jaw, sending some blood and a couple teeth flying. Kid smiled. _"Good job, Maka."_ He stepped forward as the man pinned down her flailing arms, and Kid grimaced as this time he succeeded in his kiss.

The other two closed in around him, blocking his view of what was happening, but he could hear her ravaged screeches. It heartened him that she wouldn't give in without a fight—that was his Maka! The other two men ganged up on him, and one had a knife. Great, had to get rid of that first. He waited for the first opponent to close in, the man with the knife. As he raised the weapon, Kid darted his hand along the inside of his enemy's wrist, and deftly twisted it. The man yelped in pain and opened his hand, and Kid caught the knife with his free one.

He yanked the man towards him, and was about to knock him out when the other grabbed him from behind, twisting the teenager's forearms up and against his own back. Kid cringed in pain as his deltoids and biceps worked against the strain. The knife fell from his hand. He could see that the thug who had assaulted Maka, mercifully, had left her be fully clothed, in favor of beating on Kid. Better him than her. He was hardier than she was, anyhow.

The man who had assaulted Maka eyed Kid as he approached, sizing up the slender build of the sixteen-year-old boy. Not much muscle to cushion any blows. Looked kind of weak, frail. Kid glared fiercely, his reflective shinigami eyes glowing slightly in the darkened alley. The man drew back his arm, hit Kid across the jaw with a left hook. The young shinigami felt his lip split and tasted ironish blood. The next hit gave him a black eye, Maka saw that it bruised spectacularly purple and blue. Kid choked as he was pounded in the stomach, five quick successions, one relentless jab after another. If they kept on with this, Kid was gonna throw up . . .

Maka stood, determined to help Kid, but he looked at her through the gap between his two assaulters, one swollen eye and one normal, and shook his head. She stared at his gentle metallic eyes under his ruffled black and white bangs, captivated, then gasped as his eyes widened and his pupils contracted from another blow. She wrung her hands and looked around . . . she really, _really_ had to do something to save her boyfriend right now.

A white-haired boy dropped from the building above her, right onto one of Kid's attackers. The man yelped as the boy landed on him, one forearm in the shape of a red and black scythe blade. Maka smiled. "Soul!"

She held her hand out to her brother. He nodded and transformed in a bright stream of blue-ish white light to travel and solidify in Maka's outstretched hand. She spun her weapon a couple times, and dropped into a fight stance. The three men that were beating up Kid just gawped, then released their victim and scurried off. Soul snickered and transformed back into a human as Maka ran to help her boyfriend. Her brother followed, watching the young couple with relaxed crimson eyes.

"You okay, man? That looked like a pretty harsh beating."

Kid nodded as Maka bent to help him. "Yeah. I'll be fine—OW!"

"S—sorry." Maka was attempting to gently pull his arm over her shoulders, so she could help him get up.

"Here." Soul bent to Kid's other side and together, the half-siblings lifted their friend on his feet between them.

Kid smiled as they helped him out of the alley."Thanks, guys. Hey, Soul, how'd you know we were in danger?"

"I was nearby with Liz and Patti, when I heard Maka scream. Thought I should come check it out."

"Great. Too bad they weren't with me, I could've used my guns in that situation."

Maka sighed. "If you had just agreed to listen to me . . ."

Kid shrugged against her shoulder. "I was fine, Maka. I don—" He was cut off by another coughing fit. He released Soul and forced his hand to his mouth, producing yet another packet of mucus.

Maka sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why do you always, _always _cough it into your hand?" she asked as she wiped off his hand with the cloth she had given him earlier.

He shrugged. "What else am I gonna do?"

"You could spit it out," Soul suggested.

"But that would be rude_._"

Maka scoffed. "Better the ground then your hand. It's gross—you've probably given a ton of people colds!"

Kid shrugged. "It's still impolite and rude," he said elegantly.

Soul pulled Kid's arm over his shoulders again. "We live on the Death Circuit Plaza, Kid. I don't think anyone will care."

"But it's good to have manners."

Soul gaped and Maka facepalmed. Sometimes, Kid was just too much. Soul waved his free hand in front of his friend's face. "Are you _okay_?"

"Well, other than being beaten—"

"No, I mean mentally. Are you okay?" Maka laughed at her brother's question.

Kid just sighed and rolled his eyes, and ignored Soul's question as they arrived at the building where the Children of Death resided. It was a recently abandoned apartment complex, only a year or so old, and it had been left alone with the furnishings still there. It was a building populated by several street gangs like their own, all allies of the Children. The kids did their best to keep it furbished and clean, as was expected by Mira Nygus, the "landlord" who looked after the building, unofficially. She welcomed kids from anywhere, and offered living for free, as long as they adhered to the rule of keeping their apartment clean, and no fighting; no enemy gangs were allowed to live in this same building, due to that rule.

Nygus looked after the building with the help of her husband, Sid, who strangely enough, was undead. Maka had been fascinated when she had first learned a living, breathing—or not-so-breathing—zombie helped run the illegal apartment complex. She and Kid occupied apartment 109, while Black Star and Tsubaki occupied 110. The Thompsons and Soul were in 108, on the other side of Kid's and Maka's apartment. Kid had sincerely wanted 108, because the eight is symmetrical, but it had two bedrooms while 109 only had one.

Maka opened the door to 109, and she and Soul helped Kid onto the living room couch. Soul went to his own apartment to notify the Thompsons that their meister and Maka were both fine. Maka went and grabbed the much used-and-abused first aid kit from the kitchen. Kid sat in the living room, staring at himself in the small mirror hanging on the wall across from him. He looked at his right eye, which was blacked, and his left, which was normal. The left side of his jaw was bruised. The right was fine. His eye twitched.

"NOOOO! THEY HIT ME ASYMMETRICALLY! THAT'S DISGUSTING!"

Maka rushed into the living room to find Kid laying woe-be-gone on the floor, pounding his fist into it. "I'm scum! Nothing! I'm ASYMMETRICAL!"

His girlfriend sighed, rolled her eyes, and stepped over and bent down to him, and patted his back. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're not scum. Those men were stupid, anyway!"

The OCD teenager continued to throw a conniption fit, "I don't deserve to live! Dammit! Depressed! DIE!"

"C'mon, Kid, you're the great leader of the Children! The famous Reaper!"

"Noooooo . . . . How can I be a good leader if my face doesn't even make sense?" He dredged.

"I think you're handsome no matter how you look. Hell, you look even _better_ beat up!" It was true, the battered look suited Kid's delicate pretty-boy features. The boy looked up at her, hopeful, "Really?"

"Really."

He smiled, and then he winced as his scabbed lip split again, and it began to bleed. Maka pulled out several items from the first aid. She dug through the various medicines, pulled out several topical ones, and soaked a wad of gauze in them, creating a poultice for Kid's eye. She gently taped it to his head. He looked up at her with one huge undamaged eye, soft gold melting, slightly corroded from the beating he had received and his symmetry meltdown.

"Can I have two so it's symmetrical?"

Maka giggled and softly smacked the side of his head, and he smiled, too, widening the wound on his lip. Maka finished the poultice, staring at the bright red spot on his pale pink lips. She leaned forward and gently, so as not to hurt him, took his bottom lip between hers, and sucked the blood off. He closed his eyes, too, and ran his hand through her pigtails. She drew back, hoping it had clotted, to see the blood still beading along his skin. She sucked it again, tasting bitter iron and salt, under which she tasted Kid, bitter nicotine and sweet human flesh; he always tasted bittersweet, she supposed it was the way Death should taste. He opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, digging his tongue in. His taste burst in her mouth, along with the blood; salt and sugar and bitter all mixed together, in a beautiful symphony of flavor. She ran her hand over his jaw, and he flinched as she touched his bruise. "Sorry." She drew back. He smiled, and his lip bled more, twisting a finger through one of her fair pigtails. How he loved her, so.

"Hey. D'you wanna go to bed?"

"I can't. I ran out of my birth control the other day."

Kid sighed, "We could do something, maybe."

Maka played with the raven hair at the base of his neck, where it curled, "Do you have the self-control?"

"Yes."

"Are you suuuure?" She teased.

"Yes."

Maka smiled, and sucked on his lips again. He moaned and cupped her bottom, pulling her pelvis to his. Maka drew back, "Really?" Kid smiled, and rolled his eyes, looking very humorous and adorable, "Yeah . . ."

"That didn't sound like a very sure 'yeah.'"

"Mmmmm . . ." He kissed her again, doing things with his hands that made her go dizzy with lust. She giggled as he kissed up and down her neck, it tickled, and he kissed her on the lips, again. God, Maka wanted him so bad. But they couldn't. Kid seemed to be thinking along the same string, as he released her and got up, "We should check with Soul about that dealer, and that money that's missing."

"Okay. Let's go." She got up, too, and the two meisters went and knocked on the door of their weapons' apartment. Patti enthusiastically answered the door, "Hi, guys~~!"

"Hey." They greeted in unison, entering the apartment.

Soul was lounging on the couch, sitting next to Black Star, who looked hyper, "Hey, guys! The great me made three hundred dollars today! YAAAHOOOO!"

Kid cringed and covered his ears, "Jeeze, do you have to be so loud?"

Black Star suddenly leaped up on the coffee table, "THE GREAT ME HAS SURPASSED GOD!"

Kid sighed, and rolled his eyes, "Dork . . ." He muttered, half-irritated, half-affectionate, "Have you been cranking again?"

Black Star beamed, "Totally, man! I'm waaaaay buzzed!"

"What have I told you? Don't tell me you bought another eightball!"

Soul sighed, "Yes, he did. It cost seventy, but I met up with a dealer last week at Crescent, and she, Black Star, and I are gonna sell some ecstasy tomorrow."

"That's what happened to it. I thought you had bought something, Soul."

Maka stepped forward, watching Black Star, "How much did you snort?" Her eyebrows were knitted together in worry.

"'Bout . . . ten or eleven lines . . ."

"Ten lines, my God!" Soul got up, and stood next to his sister. That was a lot of methamphetamine.

Kid looked sternly at his friend, "You do know that if you OD, we _don't_ have the money to hospitalize your sorry ass, right?"

Black Star jumped down from the table, "I won't OD." He walked up to his gangleader, put a hand on his shoulder, "The great me will be fine, got it? I'm the man who will surpass God! YAHOOO!"

The young shinigami cringed and stepped away as his eardrums ached, "Please stop it . . ."

Black Star just giggled and ran off with Patti and Tsubaki to play the card game Egyptian Ratscrew. Soul rubbed the back of his head, and stared after their friend, "Fuck, if he kills himself, what're we gonna do?"

Kid shrugged, "I don't know. Where's his eightball? I'll just sell that and get the seventy back that way. DAMMIT! Why can't it be eighty-eight? Damn asymmetry!" He stared at Maka, looking stressed, "You still have my pack? I need a cigarette right now . . ."

Maka smiled and handed it over, "You have to share."

"Yes, darling." He pulled out a cigarette and lit up.

"Hey, sis, don't you have to work tonight?" Soul asked.

It was a rule in the Children of Death that a female should always be accompanied by a male, for her own safety. Two was better. Three was great. She accepted a cigarette from Kid, and he lit it for her. She inhaled, then exhaled the smoke away from Soul. The young musician was the only one in the Children besides Tsubaki who didn't smoke, because he needed his voice in order to perform on the streets. He made money by dealing ecstasy, and playing his acoustic guitar and singing. His beautiful songs and rich baritone captivated many, and his performances had earned enough popularity to have regular attendees. Maka was a dancer at the Crescent Nightclub, which employed actual street dancers, and not strippers. It was an under-the-table employment, and all the dancers were street kids, like Maka.

"Yeah. I have to be there at six. It's four, I need to get ready when I get there. Let's get going."

"'Kay."

* * *

Maka sighed and made an adjustment to her hairpiece, staring at the well-lit mirror. She fussed with it, tilting it first left, then down. She finally settled it, and smiled at herself. Her friend Kim Diehl smiled beside her, and adjusted her own hairpiece, "It gets annoying, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Maka smiled at the pinkette. "Can you do my eyes?" she asked, handing her the makeup.

"Sure!" Kim was so much better at makeup than Maka was. She closed her eyes, and relaxed as she felt the soft brush flutter over her eyelids.

"Oi, can we come in?" came Soul's voice from the other side of the door. Kim, who was right next to the door, checked that everyone was decent, and allowed in Maka's brother and boyfriend. Kim finished off Maka's eye makeup with mascara, and the blonde meister opened her eyes. Kid was staring at her hairpiece with his eye that wasn't covered by a poultice, very, very intently. His eye twitched.

Her hands hovered over her head. "Don't touch it!"

"I have to fix it."

"Don't. Touch. It."

"I have to fix it!" He lunged at her, grabbing for her hair.

She got up from her chair, dodging him, and picked up her novel. "Makaaa-chop!" He flinched as she whacked him over the head with the book.

Soul grinned. "I think Tiny-Tits doesn't want you to touch it . . ."

"Makaaa-chop!"

Soul grabbed his head. "What that hell was that for?"

"Don't call me names."

Kim giggled. "Wow, when are you two gonna learn to never cross Maka?"

"Your costume is _irritating_ me," Kid said, rubbing his head.

"Too bad. You'll have to live with it," she said, staring at herself in the mirror. It was a green spaghetti-strap camisole, which had a black and white, swirling graphic design printed down the right side, and a pair of black skinny jeans.

"You look nice, sis," Soul smiled.

Maka smiled, too, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, big brother."

Kid pouted. "That costume would be _beautiful_ if it weren't so asymmet—"

"Asymmetry, yeah, yeah, we know. Man, that nicotine makes your OCD so damn bad."

Kid glared at her. "It's gonna distract me from the dance! What style are you guys doing tonight, anyway?"

"Lyrical hip-hop. It's a really pretty routine, you'll like it a lot, Kid."

"Cool. What's it about?"

"It's to the song _Bleeding Love_, and the premise is a girl who lost her lover."

Kid tilted his head to the side sweetly. "Awww. That's sad."

Maka smiled, he was just so adorable. She kissed him, taking care not to reopen the scab on his lip, which was now strong enough not to split when he smiled.

"Break a leg, darling."

Soul gave her a hug, too. "Good luck. We're in the front, to the left."

"'Kay, I'll find you."

They both waved, and exited the dressing room. Maka and Kim waited around for a while, along with their other friend, Jacqueline, who had been on the other side of the room when Kid and Soul entered. They snacked on some fruit and crackers that were offered for the dancers, in order to get their energy up. It was one of the many perks offered by the Crescent, for the street kids who danced every night. They were asked for curtain call after a half hour, and the dancers positioned themselves on the darkened stage, ready to perform the routine. Maka could hear the applause and chants on the other side of the curtain, as the announcer listed their names and the title of the routine. It made Maka smile; nothing thrilled her more than the shouts of a crowd. She just simply loved performing for people.

Kid leaned forward eagerly as the curtain went up. Next to him, Soul put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly and shrilly, demonstrating his impeccable singer's lungs. The music started, sweet and sad, with a hypnotic heart-beat-like bass. The dancers began to move, and Kid watched in delight as the dance played out, very beautiful, very pained. He watched Maka in particular as she danced, her facial expression was contorted as she empathized with the routine, throwing herself into the role of the girl who lost the one she loved.

The dance was nearing its end, when suddenly, a monstrous creature dropped down onto the small stage, disrupting the choreography. Screams erupted, and Kid and Soul stood up. A pre-Kishin here? Dammit, and Liz and Patti weren't with Kid! A loud scream fell on his own and Soul's ears. Maka!

The two boys watched in horror as the pre-Kishin picked her up, and opened its mouth. It was gonna devour her whole . . .


	3. Ten Years Old is Something to See

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

_The Undead Young_ Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

_Young_ lyrics copyright (c) 2008 Hollywood Undead. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics

* * *

**Chapter 2:** **Ten Years Old is Something to See**

_I see the children in the rain,  
__like the parade before the pain.  
__I see the love, I see the hate,  
__I see this world that we can make._

Death the Kid couldn't breathe.

He couldn't hear.

He couldn't function.

All he saw was the pre-Kishin, his girlfriend.

His vision filled up with blood, the potential result of what he was witnessing.

No, this wasn't happening, _what happened_, _howcouldthisBE_?

Neither of the meisters had sensed it, how had it slipped them by? Time sped up again, and he began to move towards the stage. He could hear again, screams were crashing against his ears, as people ran and chaos erupted. The blood he had imagined vanished. Beside him, Maka's demon scythe transformed, his body dissolving into a stream of blue light, reforming again in Maka's hands. The blonde girl yelled and hacked at the pre-Kishin's head. It made a dull thunking sound as the blade bit into flesh. Kid felt completely and utterly helpless. He didn't have his weapons, and what idiotic meister would take on a pre-Kishin with just their martial arts? Not even Black Star was that stupid.

Kid seemed to be, because he rushed forward, despite the thoughts in his head. He couldn't rid himself of the blood that had briefly clouded his vision. He had to do _something._ He jumped onstage, dropping immediately into a Stance of Sin, and aimed a good kick at one of the feet of the monster. It didn't even flinch, but it did look down dully, hideous face contorted, blood from the wound Maka had inflicted pumping over its face. It stared dumbly for a moment at the boy at its feet.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Maka screeched at Kid. He just shook his head and threw a punch into the pre-Kishin's ribs. He yelped in pain as he felt his knuckles split and bleed, and his joints were jarred. It was like punching rock . . .

"GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!"

His girlfriend was multitasking—holding off the enemy while she attempted to work some reason into Kid's now-obviously-blank head. The young shinigami drew back his bloodied hand, and threw another punch into the creature's stomach. Ah, that was more like it! It gave softly before his hand, pushing in. Kid drew back for another, and this time he clawed his hand and stiffened his fingers as he drew it back, and plunged it again, fingernails first, into the pre-Kishin's stomach. He broke through flesh, and could feel the creature's soft, squishy, wet insides. He grabbed something and pulled. The creature howled in pain as Kid pulled out its entrails, and hot blood poured over his hand, the bitter-salt smell filling his nose. Sometimes, his own prowess in martial arts frightened him.

The creature finally dropped Maka, and she landed beside Kid, watching in disgust for a moment as he continued to pull at the creature's intestines, pulling them farther and farther back, beyond the range of the claws. The creature screeched horribly and writhed, as its organs and blood poured all over the stage.

Maka ran forward. "HAAAAAAAAAA!"

Soul's voice grated against Kid's ears. "Wait, Maka! It's thrashing, it could hurt you! Wait until it's unconscious!"

As expected, Maka ignored him and continued to charge the pre-Kishin, apparently determined to put it out of its misery. She dodged its claws, jumping and rolling. It made Kid nervous, and his grip tightened on the slippery, wet rope of dull pink, blood-soaked digestive tract he was pulling on. He was surprised the creature had survived this long. He yanked again, eliciting more agonized howls from the pre-Kishin, and watched as Maka went in for another swing.

She was coming in from above, Soul held high over her head at an angle, ready to deliver the fatal blow. Kid's pupils contracted, and his metallic eyes rusted as he watched a huge claw ascend from below. It mauled her leg, opening a huge, gaping, red, red, red gash on her thigh. She collapsed, and Kid gasped and yanked again, hoping to pull the body away from her. She was caught in the range of the creature's throws; if she stayed where she was, she'd be ripped to shreds. Her brother seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he transformed and shielded his sister with his body, pushing her away from the thrashing, writhing claws. This had to end, NOW!

Kid stepped forward, and ducked and dodged the pre-Kishin's flexing, flailing claws, making his way to the yawning wound he had inflicted. He plunged his arm in, up to the elbow, and found the location of the pre-Kishin's still-pumping heart. He grabbed the pulsating, muscular organ, and ripped at it, pulling at attachment tendons and arteries with his nails. He squeezed it too hard, and the heart exploded, showering Kid with hot, thick, metal-salt blood.

The flesh surrounding his arm dissolved into smoke, as the now-dead pre-Kishin's body vanished, leaving behind a large, floaty darkish-red Kishin egg. Kid stared at it, breathing hard, as his hair dripped with red bodily fluid, and ran wet and hot down his face. He blinked the blood out of his eye, and wiped at it with his still-clean hand. He pulled off the poultice over his black eye, as it was soaked red, and beginning to sting his injury. The Kishin egg was an unusual color; the dark purplish-red had splotches of yellow and green in it—he had never seen anything like it before. He plucked it out of the air, and stored it for later, to show to the others, and skidded along the slippery, blood-and-organ covered stage to his friends.

Maka glared at him. "Are you stupid?!"

Kid flinched, and wiped at his bloody face. "What else was I going to do?!"

"You're fucking lucky as hell," Soul stated, staring at the shinigami in shock.

"That was so dumb! Shinigami or not!" Maka screeched.

"I wasn't going to just stand there and do nothing!"

"You idiot, I had him! You didn't need to interfere!"

Kid threw his hands up in annoyance. "Well, fuck!" he yelled. "Excuse me for saving your life!"

Soul just sighed. "Please stop. We need to get Maka to a hospital or something . . ."

Kid nodded, and calmed down, but Maka continued to glare. Her boyfriend looked absolutely dreadful. Half of his porcelain skin was covered in bright red blood, striking in contrast against his fair coloring. His black hair was soaked and dripping, the three snowy sanzu lines now crimson. His eye looked considerably better, thanks to his supernatural shinigami blood cells, as well as the medication in the poultice. The bruise was beginning to yellow already, an indication that it was healing, and it was no longer swollen.

He bent to examine her wound. His large, soft alabaster hand fluttered lightly over her thigh, as he took care not to irritate the gash, and a small crease sat on his forehead, right between his eyebrows, that always appeared when he was concerned or worried. Maka had always thought it was adorable, and was touched by his obvious concern for her. But it still did not excuse how blatantly reckless he had been. Kid leaned back on his heels, and pulled off his favorite black, especially tailored suit-jacket he basically lived in.

Maka stared. "What're you doing?" He smiled, and man, she was so going to owe him for this one, and tore the jacket in half. Long strips of fabric ripped away; he made sure to keep the symmetry consistent. He grinned even bigger as Maka's eyes widened as he tied off her leg. "That's your favorite coat . . ."

Kid shrugged, and kissed her on the forehead. "I know."

"C'mon, up." Soul pulled on his sister's arm. Kid grabbed her other, and the two boys lifted her. Kid brought his other hand under her knees, and lifted her into his arms, tenderly hugging the small girl close.

"The next time you do something that stupid in a battle, I'm disowning you," Maka grumbled.

"You won't."

"Watch me!"

A resigned sigh. "I'll never hear the end of this, will I?"

"You betchya."

"Don't tell me you're gonna be angry with me for days."

"Right on."

"You know how much I love you. Right?" He forced a finger between her ribs, tickling her.

"Shut up!" She was fighting down a smile.

Kid smirked. She could never stay angry at him for very long.

* * *

The twenty-four hour emergency clinic was white, sterile, cold. Kid shivered slightly in his t-shirt as he and Soul sat in the waiting room. When the three teenagers had entered the clinic, the poor admittance clerk had looked up and nearly died of shock when she saw the red, bloody mess that was Kid. She probably would have assumed he was the patient, had he not been carrying Maka in his arms. His girl was curled up in Kid's lap, her small, warm body a comfort to the young shinigami. He rubbed his hands softly over her well-toned torso, marveling at the slight definition of her abs he could feel through the tank top of her dance costume. It was still asymmetrical. It was really beginning to bug him. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the sweet, cocoa-ish smell of sunscreen and the beach, mixed in contrast with bitter, sharp human sweat and blood. Despite the fact that she smoked, she did not smell like it. At least not to him.

The female meister squirmed in his arms, "Hey. Are you injured?"

"Why're you worrying about me?" Soul smiled at her, "Just like our Maka to care more about you than herself."

She lifted up Kid's hand gingerly by the wrist, the one that had been injured from punching the pre-Kishin. "Nothing is wrong with this?" He wriggled his fingers to demonstrate that his hand was undamaged. She took it and sifted off some of the dried blood, "You didn't get a sprain or anything?"

"Nope. There's no internal damage. I'm fine, darling."

Soul tapped Kid on the shoulder. "Oi, I've been wondering. What happened to that Kishin egg?"

"I put it away. It was really weird, it—"

"Maka Albarn?" called a nurse.

"I'll tell you guys later." Kid gathered Maka into his arms. "How d'you feel?" he asked tenderly.

"In pain. And tired. And slightly dizzy."

"Probably blood loss. We can stop on our way home, and get you some juice and crackers or something. Good?"

She yawned, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Good . . ."

He gently shook her. "Don't fall asleep!" She nodded off anyway. Stubborn girl.

They followed the nurse down a long, gray hallway, passing different clinic rooms, where patients with varying degrees of severity resided. They turned a corner, and followed her into an empty patient room. This was also white, sterile, and cold. The brightest thing in the room was the bright foam-green cushioned examination table, on which Kid gently laid Maka down.

He double checked the bandaging on the wound, then showed it to the nurse. "This is why we're here."

She came over and looked. "What happened?"

Soul stood up, too, and walked over. "She was fighting a pre-Kishin, when she got a gash in her leg. Then I protected her, while the stupid shinigami saved her. By killing the thing with his bare hands."

The "stupid shinigami" glared at his friend. "Hey!"

"Stupid shinigami."

Kid merely glared at him.

The nurse simply looked somewhat shocked and a little befuddled, as she watched the two teenagers consort. She stared at Maka, and adjusted her clipboard. "I need to ask her some questions. Can you wake her up?"

Kid nodded. "Sure." He stepped over to his girlfriend, and gently shook her shoulder. "Maka, darling. You need to wake up." She groaned and turned over. He shook her harder. "Maka. The nurse—OOF!" He doubled over as she punched him in the stomach, and gasped for air.

The nurse oggled at the blonde girl. "Did she do that on _purpose_?"

Soul laughed at the gasping shinigami, and stood again, "No. It's a fairly common warrior's reflex. Self-defense in your sleep, I guess. Here." He walked over, and prodded his sister in the forehead with his fingernail, and shouted in her ear. "OI! TINY TITS! WAKE THE HELL UP!"

She opened her eyes and slapped him. "I'm up, I'm up! Jeez, can't I get some sleep around here?" Kid looked up from holding his stomach, gasping. "You'll be the death of me." _Haha, ironic coming from Death himself,_ Maka thought.

She rubbed at her eyes as the nurse nervously adjusted her clipboard again. "Uuuum . . . well, anyway. I have a few questions to ask you, young lady."

"Okay."

"What is your age?"

"Fifteen." She watched as the nurse made a notation on her clipboard.

"Do you know your weight?"

"Yes, uuummm . . . about one-hundred and two pounds."

"Okay." Another "skrtch-skrtch" of the pen. "When was your last period?" God, did the nurse really need to know _that_? Maka blushed and looked at Soul. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable. It was one thing for Kid to know, he had to, as her sexual partner. But her brother? Awkwaaarrrd.

"Uhhhh—uum—a—about two weeks ago . . ."

"Are you on any medication?"

"Generic birth control. But I haven't taken it since Saturday, I ran out two days ago."

"Okay. That's good to know, because some of the antibiotics you may take cause birth defects. Just in case."

Maka nodded. "Okay."

Kid looked exceedingly uncomfortable, and his face was flushed as he gazed at Maka with melting, golden eyes. His hair was still crackly with blood. He ran his hand through it and grimaced as dried flakes of red fell out of his hair. He really needed a shower right now.

The nurse made a few notes on her clipboard, then looked up again. "That's all. I need to see the wound, now."

"Okay."

Maka adjusted herself on the table as the nurse approached. She told Kid to grab her some gauze and a tourniquet, and assist her. He complied, and watched, soft, sterile cloth and rubber binding in hand, as the woman unbound Maka's wound. It began to bleed almost immediately. She instructed Kid on where to place the gauze, just above and to the left of the main thigh's artery, and press down. She tied off the tourniquet skillfully above Maka's gash, and asked Kid to remove the gauze. Maka winced; the tourniquet squeezed down on her leg, causing the wound to throb more as the blood pumping into her leg was backed up. Kid moved out of the nurse's way as she began to clean the wound, and he took Maka's hand. He gave her a small, soft, gift of a smile, and kissed her on the forehead. She hissed in pain as alcohol was poured into the wound, causing it to sting even more. The nurse completed the cleaning, and rebound the wound in fresh, sterile bandages. "Okay. I will get the doctor, he can prescribe you some medication. And it looks like you'll need stitches." She smiled at them, then exited.

Kid sighed. "Great. I wonder how much this is gonna cost us."

"How much do we have to spare?" asked Soul.

"Not much. God, I need a cigarette right now." His hands had begun to shake, one of the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal.

Maka shrugged. "So go outside and have one."

"No, I can stay here. With you, darling."

He smiled at her, slow and sweet and sexy, and she felt her stomach do back flips, and she melted into a puddle on the exam table. She smiled back, and giggled giddily.

Soul snorted. "Kid, have some mercy; stop seducing my sister in front of me."

Kid just chuckled, a low, smooth baritone echoing around the room. "Sorry."

He held up his hand, and it glowed purple for a moment as he summoned the strange Kishin egg he had grabbed earlier. He turned it in his hand as Maka and Soul both stared at it, inspecting the soft glow of green and yellow against dark red. "Strange, isn't it? It was like that when I picked it up."

Soul took it from him. "Should I eat it?"

Kid shook his head. "Don't. We don't know what's wrong with it. I have a connection in soul expertise at the Crescent. I'll come with you tomorrow night to find out about this."

"Okay." Soul handed the egg back to his friend.

The young shinigami took it and absorbed it again, storing it away for later. The doctor walked in just then, and the three teenagers looked up. Maka's mind was on the strange Kishin egg the whole time the doctor was busy stitching up her leg. What a strange coloring, and the energy radiating from it had been unusual, too.

* * *

What could it be?

The night was crisp and cool, and Soul lent Maka his jacket to keep her warm on the way home. She had fallen asleep again, from exhaustion and trauma. Kid and Soul took turns carrying her as they walked through the city, from fortunate part to poor. The doctor had said she would be able to walk by the next day, and that she shouldn't push herself. At this, both boys had rolled their eyes and stated, "Like that's ever gonna happen," in unison. At which the doctor had looked bewildered and Maka had laughed her head off.

It had cost them, ironically, seventy dollars for the service, which made Kid snort in incredulity and definitely plan to steal Black Star's crank eightball and resell it. It had cost more than would have been typical, because the nurse had also filled the prescription for Maka's birth control. Kid and Maka would have to wait several days, though, before the hormones once again took full effect.

When the three teenagers approached their apartment complex, they stopped. And stared. A rather eccentric scene met their eyes, slightly disturbing, very compelling. A little girl sat in front of the steps under the streetlight, holding a stick. She had drawn a circle around herself, and was talking to her shadow. She looked about seven or eight, and was very small for her age. Her hair was light baby pink, styled in a short, spiky bob. She was dressed in a pretty black frock, with white trimming. Kid could hear that her words were slurred as they approached.

"Whatch's your name?" She was silent for a moment, as though her shadow were answering her.

"But that's—that is . . . mine . . . my name . . ." She seemed to be struggling to form a coherent sentence. Kid and Soul stopped just outside the circle. She looked up as the two large shadows of the boys doused her small one. Her eyes were pale ice-blue and bloodshot, empty and huge. She had been crying. "You killed Shadow." Soul was holding Maka, so Kid was the one who bent down to her level, waving Soul on to take Maka inside. The demon weapon complied.

Kid studied the child in concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, smiling softly.

The little girl flinched, and backed away. "You're . . . you—you can't not entered my circle!" Her words were all mixed up; it made Kid suspicious that she was either mentally unstable or drugged. His guess was the latter.

He gently held out an arm. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Can you come here, please?"

"Is you going—go to give me Thingies?" Kid narrowed his eyes, and wondered what these "Thingies" were.

He beckoned with his hand, arm still outstretched. "No. I promise."

She hesitated, then slowly approached him. The death god gently encircled her with his arm, and placed a soft finger under her chin, tilting her face up to inspect her eyes under the bright streetlamp. The whites were bloodshot and teary, and her eyes looked tired. She was definitely on something. Did she do this to herself? No, it was probably some sick fuck-up.

He gently smoothed the bangs back from her forehead, to check her temperature. "How old are you?"

She sniffed—her nose was runny from the chilly night air. "Eight of me."

He held up two fingers. "How many do you see?"

She stared at his hand for a moment with unfocused eyes, "Four . . ." So her vision was double. He sincerely hoped she wasn't OD'd.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked softly, now checking her pulse. Erratic, and much faster than it should be.

"Crona."

"Do you know what 'Thingy' you're on?"

"Potty-pot-pot . . ."

"Marijuana?" he asked, gazing at her intently. She looked away, unable to make eye contact, it seemed.

"Yeah. It's what Medu—Medusa-sama say called."

Kid narrowed his eyes. Medusa, that fucked up bitch! He gently hoisted her into his arms. Poor girl, she was so drugged she could barely form a proper sentence, let alone get up and walk. Crona squirmed in his arms, and he gently stroked her hair, and gave her a soothing kiss on the forehead.

"It's okay! I'm going to help you. We're just going inside, right here." He pushed open the door to the complex.

She squirmed again. "I don't know how to deal with this . . ."

"It's fine," he murmured, adjusting her on his hip to open the apartment.

They had no locks, unfortunately, as creating keys for every apartment would require a lot of money, and Nygus and Sid invested most of it into the maintenance of the apartment, and supporting those kids who didn't make enough money to survive on their own. Kid managed to push the apartment door open, and kicked it closed behind him. The lights were low, for the sake of Maka. There was no electricity feeding to the complex, so the occupants in the apartments made do with battery-powered lighting and appliances. They did have running water, however. Soul had laid Maka on the living room couch, and covered her with a blanket. He was playing solitaire with the deck Maka and Kid constantly kept on the coffee table. Cards were one of the ways the Children of Death entertained themselves at home, as they didn't have television or video games. The scythe stared at the child in Kid's arms.

"What's up with her?"

"Medusa!"

Kid hissed, soft and sibilant with rage. Soul flinched. The weapon knew that the softer Kid's voice was, the more dangerous Mr. Death felt. A dark, hissing whisper meant he wanted to murder somebody. It reminded Soul forcibly of a snake, but he was intelligent enough not to point that irony out to the already enraged shinigami. Kid approached Soul, and softly set Crona on her feet beside him. She tottered back and forth, disoriented, before she collapsed against Soul.

The white-haired boy steadied her, and looked into her face. "Is she okay?"

Kid looked up as he lifted Maka once again his arms. "No." His voice was still soft and reckless, brimming with suppressed emotion. "She's drugged up on pot. She can't even talk properly." The little girl stared at her feet, tapping the cards Soul had laid out with the stick she had been holding, which Kid had obviously allowed her to keep.

Soul's red eyes blazed intensely. "And Medusa did this?" he asked, his whispered voice now jagged in anger, in contrast against Kid's smooth one.

Kid nodded, and took his slumbering girlfriend into their bedroom. He gently laid her on the double bed, and pulled off her clothing, stripping her to just her panties; he had even removed her bra, so she would be comfortable. He found her nightgown in the darkness, and slipped it over her slender body. He gently covered her with the blankets, and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. He smiled at this; he felt strangely fatherly, tucking her in like this. They normally made love before going to sleep, how different was this?

Kid had a brief smoke, as his withdrawal was getting really bad, and gathered his own pajamas together, and stepped into the bathroom. He checked the clock, it was nearly ten to one. He turned on the shower and undressed, stepping gratefully into the warm spray of water. The boy watched the bright red streaming over his creamy skin, mixing with the water and thinning. He shampooed his hair, blinking as the blood, soap and water ran into his face, and wondered how poor Crona could possibly have ended up so horribly drugged. What did Medusa want with her?

Kid had a suspicion. He stopped washing and held up his soapy hand, willing the Kishin egg into existence once again. He turned it in his hands, watching the way the water refracted the reddish-yellow-green light around the small, tiled bathtub area, throwing little bright splotches of colored light all over the white walls and Kid's fair, well-toned body. Was that little girl in connection with this? Children didn't just randomly show up on the Death Circuit Plaza drugged out of their wits. There had to be something the Gorgons, Medusa's gang, was up to. And it had to do with that pre-Kishin.

He held the soul closer, stepping under the shower again to rinse the soap and blood from his hair. It tickled as it ran off his body, and he held the egg up to his face. He closed his eyes and perceived it, carefully inspecting and digesting this soul's specific wavelength and energy signature. It was very unusual, highly unstable. And it was very powerful, much more than the average pre-Kishin's. It seemed to be churning irregularly, and couldn't settle on a specific soul frequency. Strange. Normally, a soul remains on a constant "frequency," or channel, something like a state of existence. This one switched between, as though it couldn't decide what it wanted to do. Kid absorbed the soul again, and finished off his shower. As he dried off, he heard Soul murmuring softly to Crona, asking her if she wanted something to eat. It made Kid smile.

He would find out more about this strange Kishin egg, tomorrow.

* * *

The Crescent Nightclub was one of the central heartbeats on the Death Circuit Plaza. It was the site of community for the occupants on the Circuit, and everything from hook-ups to business transactions were completed at the club. It was a gothic-themed place, complete with darkwave techno and drinks named after vampires. The goth scene was a thriving culture on the Death Circuit Plaza, and almost every kid who populated the Circuit and frequented the Crescent had somewhat dark tastes.

Kid admired his sweetheart as she exited the bathroom, and he felt his body heat. Her hair was down, and she had curled it, so it was wavy. The outfit she had chosen to go out in was a corset-top minidress. The bodice was ivy green satin, matching the color of her beautiful eyes, overlaid with black lace. It laced up in the back with black satin ribbon, corset-style, of course, and hugged her form, showing off every curve. It also pushed up her small breasts, making them appear bigger, and giving her the deepest cleavage he'd ever seen on her. The skirt started from the bodice low, at the beginning of the hipbone, and the hem hit her mid-thigh. It was pleated, also dark green with lace overlay. It had a lacey black crinoline underskirt, puffing the skirt out in a fashion slightly reminiscent of Lolita stylization. A pair of black, very short dance shorts peeked from under the skirt when she bent down after she dropped something. She had probably put them on to preserve her modesty, but it only teased him more, because it only served to showcase her round, toned buttocks. Kid sighed longingly, and hoped they would have an opportunity to sleep together tonight. He had asked Liz to lend him some condoms.

She walked over to the bed, and stopped next to it, where her heels sat. She slipped one of her feet into one, and lifted her flexible leg, the one with stitches, to rest her foot right beside Kid, in order to buckle the shoe. The black, strappy heel only served to make her appear even sexier, and the way her long, toned, bare peach leg was stretched out right beside him wasn't helping, much, either. His eyes slid up her leg, over her body, and to her face. Prudent Maka hadn't put on much makeup. She never did, a small amount of neutral eye shadow and mascara, with a bit of shiny pink lip gloss was all she really needed. Her natural beauty was one of the things Kid liked the most about her, and he was glad she didn't cover it up with thick layers of makeup.

Maka looked up at him and smiled. "You look hot."

"Thanks. So do—" His voice caught in his throat as she lowered her leg and lifted the other. "So do you."

She laughed, and slowly slid her hand up her thigh. "Tempted?"

Kid leaned over and softly kissed her knee. "Ooohhh, yes," he breathed. She shivered and giggled as he kissed her up her thigh, soft, silky lips brushing against her skin. He was at the hem of her skirt, and was slowly lifting it as he continued his kisses, when Soul walked in.

"Ahem!"

Kid looked up, and the young couple turned red as Maka's half-brother rubbed the back of his head, shooting what could be called death glares at his sister's boyfriend, and looked very uncomfortable. Maka ducked her head and buckled her shoe, and lowered her foot onto the floor. She grabbed her novel off the bed, followed by her evening purse, and stuffed the book into the bag.

Soul's eyes studied the two of them, regarding Kid rather warily. "We have to be out the door in ten minutes. Tsubaki, Black Star and I are all ready, and Liz and Patti almost are. You guys look ready."

Kid stood. "We are."

He took Maka's hand, and followed Soul out the door. They had asked Kim and Jacqueline to babysit Crona for them, while they went out. The little girl was very shy and withdrawn, though the marijuana she had been on had long ago worn off, and she seemed to be fine. Her health was still a cause for concern, though, as she was very thin and sickly. Despite her shyness, Crona had taken instantly to Maka and Kid, and the young couple had decided to take care of her until they decided what they could do for her. She was already playing go-fish, her favorite card game, quietly with Kim as Jackie watched.

Maka studied her boyfriend as they waited with the others for the Thompsons to get ready. The young shinigami was smoking, leaning casually against the wall; he had chosen a short, black indoor trench coat, over a red t-shirt, with a _symmetrical_ (as he so adamantly pointed out to Maka, unlike her dance costume) spiky graphic design on it. He wore his usual black skinny jeans; pretty much all his jeans were black and skinny. It was like his signature closet staple. He also wore black and red skateboard shoes, another thing he almost always wore, as he often traveled the city on his much-loved supernatural skateboard, Beelzebub, which he had inherited from his father. Maka smiled, and leaned against him. Her very own shinigami skater boy. His arm automatically went around her, and he pulled her close, kissing her on top of the head. The Thompsons came out, fully ready, and the Children of Death hit the Crescent.

Among the pounding music and dark decorations of the club, Soul found the girl and dealer he had met and enthusiastically introduced her to everyone. Her name was Tania, and she was a pretty punk girl with long, curly brown hair and huge blue eyes. She, Kid and Maka took an instant liking to each other, as all were literature fanatics.

"Have you ever read _Othello_? I'm reading that right now," Maka asked.

Tania shook her head. "Nah. I haven't read much Shakespeare. Only _A Midsummer's Night Dream_ and _Romeo and Juliet_. And I don't like Romeo."

"Why?" Kid asked, taking a drag of nicotine.

"He's so flat, and undeveloped. He's, like, the only character that doesn't change during the whole play. He's kind of pathetic."

Kid shrugged, palms facing up, cigarette between his fingers. "I guess I see your point. Tybalt never sat well with me. He's an ass."

Maka laughed. "He is an ass!"

Soul sat and stared as the three literature buffs discussed he-didn't-know-what. He had tried reading Shakespeare once, when Maka had insisted that it was good, and had failed miserably at enjoying it. He cleared his throat loudly.

"Can we please talk about something I understand?"

He turned and accepted the beer Black Star handed him; it was the ninja meister's turn tonight to buy the drinks. No one in the gang had their "own" money, it was all communal. State law drinking age was ignored at the Crescent, but no one under fifteen was allowed to drink, according to the laws of the streets. The illegal traffickers that ran the business side of the Circuit had at least some morals. Kid took his glass of vodka, and chuckled as he wondered what the bar tender had thought when Black Star had specially requested an entire pint. To the chemical-resistant young shinigami, hard liqueur affected him about the same way beer affected a human. The friends all wished each other cheers, just for the heck of it, and took sips of their drinks.

Maka stared at Kid with her lovely green eyes over the top of her margarita. "We should see about that Kishin egg. Where's Chase Boteccelli?" she asked, naming the person Kid was connected with.

The shinigami gestured with his hand that held the cigarette. "In the back. We'll go soon, don't worry."

Maka nodded.

Tania was telling Soul about something, ". . . and the arrangement was _way_ good. Like, Danny Elfman good."

Soul nodded and smiled, slow and enticing. "Really? As good as your music?"

Tania looked flattered. "Well—um—uh, of course! I'm just a poor street musician, I don't know anything the way a professional composer does!"

"I guess." Soul shrugged, and smiled again, this time wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "But, you know, the best artists speak from the heart. And whenever I hear you sing, I can alwayshear yours."

At this, Tania flushed bright pink and spluttered something about the fact that even Soul was a better artist than her, but the demon weapon just laughed. Maka watched this exchange with mild interest. Unlike herself, Soul had yet to have a successful relationship. Sure, there had been several girls in his life, but none lasted very long, and he had never had a romance that had the depth and complexity that Kid's and Maka's relationship and friendship shared. Because, not only was Kid her lover, but her best friend as well, besides her brother. And Soul had never had that kind of special connection with a girl. Maka hoped for the best, Tania seemed like a very nice person.

Kid tapped her on the shoulder, he had finished his pint of vodka. "Let's go."

She nodded, drained the last dregs of her own drink, and followed him. She watched from behind as he pulled out another cigarette and lit up. She held out her hand, "Can I have one?"

He handed the pack and his lighter back to her as they approached the bouncer that stood guard to the entrance to the back rooms of the club, where only VIP's were allowed, for special business and social meetings, as well as a place for couples to retreat. Kid flashed his ID to the man, who nodded and let them by. Maka took his left hand, feeling the silver skull ring he always wore on both his hands, on the middle finger.

They walked down the hall, and entered a room halfway down, on the left. A young man a little older than Kid sat on a couch between two girls, entertaining them with a story as he passed around drinks. He was about seventeen or eighteen, and had tanned olive-tone skin, and black curly hair. His eyes were a warm, bright earthy brown, welcoming and open. He looked up and smiled, flashing brilliant white teeth, as Kid and Maka approached.

"Ah, Reaper! Good to see you." He and Kid shook hands, exchanging greetings, and Boteccelli paused as Kid lent him a cigarette. Their informant took it and lit up, using his own lighter. "So. What are you here for tonight?"

Kid once again outstretched his hand, and summoned the Kishin egg, his hand glowing purple as the soul popped into existence. Boteccelli's eyes widened as he saw the unusual coloring of the egg, and he took it in his hands.

"Where did you get this?"

"Last night, we were attacked by a pre-Kishin. Here, at the Crescent, where there are a ton of meisters. Yet no one sensed it."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I was off last night, had some business across the city." He continued to study it in fascination, turning the unique Kishin egg over in his hands.

"So, do you know what's wrong with it?" Maka asked.

"That pre-Kishin—nobody sensed its presence?"

"No," Kid supplied.

"Did this pre-Kishin seem . . . unusual to you?"

"No. Not until I saw the soul. Its wavelength and frequency are odd. Like it can't settle on a singular one."

Boteccelli nodded, and handed the egg back to Kid. "This is an indication that a very powerful weapon is in our midst. And not a demon weapon." His voice was hushed, and he paused in his explanation to shoo out the two girls still sitting on the couch, and shut the door. He turned to Maka and Kid, his normally merry face very serious. "That pre-Kishin was an escapee test subject."

Kid's metallic eyes glowed gold, and he narrowed them in suspicion. "A test subject for what?"

"Phasmatalphamine. Soul crank."

Maka and Kid were both at a loss. "What's that?" Maka asked.

"Not many people are aware of the existence of phasmat. It's a powerful drug that acts as a steroid to boost the powers of meisters and weapons alike. Only, there have yet to be any successful takers. This drug contains chemicals similar to meth, mixed in with the energy of innocent souls. Not actual souls themselves! Just the energy signature. One of three things happen. It works, which has not yet come to be, or it turns the victim into a pre-Kishin, in negative response to the soul energy, or you die."

Kid stared at the soul. "So, if this was a test subject, they had no choice in becoming a pre-Kishin?"

"No, they did. That test subject could have come from the only place to possess phasmatalphamine—Shibusen."

"WHAT?! Shibusen?" Kid was utterly shocked. "But, isn't that illegal?"

"Of course it is! But that doesn't stop Dr. Franken Stein from experimenting with it. Hell, he invented the drug. And students volunteer, putting their life and sanity on the line, for the sake of improving this drug. Do you know how many people would kill to get their hands on this?"

Kid looked up, his face a strange color under the light of the soul. Boteccelli gripped his shoulder. "Pass that soul on. Don't feed it to any weapons, and don't show it to or tell _anybody_. There are a ton of enemy gangs who would love to get their hands on this drug and that Kishin egg, and they will murder your entire gang for the sake of it."

Maka watched Kid with wide, frightened eyes, as he nodded and released the soul into the air. He pulled out a small switch knife, and opened it. Normal human souls simply required a blessing and passing chant. Kishin eggs needed the blood of a shinigami in order to be passed to the afterlife, if they weren't consumed by weapons. Kid made a small slice in the palm of his hand, and squeezed his blood onto the egg. It hissed and absorbed the blood where the thick liquid hit, and Kid caressed the soul, reciting a small passage chant under his breath. The Kishin egg vanished, floating away in a smoky haze.

Boteccelli looked relieved, "Glad that's over. That pre-Kishin shouldn't have been let loose, as Shibusen kills all their failed test subjects who become pre-Kishin. This was a major screw-up on their part."

"I can't believe there's something this—this—" Kid seemed unable to form into words how he felt, he was so disgusted.

"Indeed. The government knows about it, but they let it slide because Shibusen brings in so much tourism for Death City. I also heard that the administrators bribe them by appointing the officers the governor wants."

"What?!" Maka screeched. "That's totally messed up! I thought Shibusen was honorable!"

"It's fucking politics!" Kid hissed, outraged. "What do you expect? If Chichiue was still alive . . ." His voice was soft and dangerous, and shook slightly with rage. Maka just shook her head, in disappointment. She had always regarded Shibusen as a place of honor and legitimate workings, never a place to hit below the belt. This was just too horrid.

Boteccelli clapped Kid on the shoulder. "I have other people waiting."

Kid nodded, and smiled, calm again, as he shook his acquaintance's hand. "It's been good to see you. I'll look out for more of these strange pre-Kishin."

Boteccelli smiled, and shook Maka's hand too. "Good to see you, too, as well as your lovely Maka. Keep an eye out."

"I will."

Maka followed her gangleader out the door, waving a last goodbye to Boteccelli. She fell into step beside him, and he seemed to be pensive, lost in thought. She opened her purse and rummaged around in it for his pack, he looked like he needed a cigarette right now. She realized he had stopped, and she had walked ahead of him, and she stopped, too, still searching in her purse. Where was it? It didn't seem to be here, did he have it?

"Hey, Ki—"

She stopped as a warm pair of arms encircled her waist, and his toned chest pressed against her back. She felt his body move, as he dropped into what felt like a martial arts fighting stance, pulling her to him, so she could feel every crevice of his body. His lips moved over her ear, soft and fluttery as butterfly wings, "Shinigami martial art." He whispered, now brushing his lips behind her ear, "Stance of Seduction." His body shifted again, to press farther against hers, and his lips and tongue pressed into her neck, nipping her skin with his teeth. She moaned as his mouth moved over her, down her neck and to her shoulder, and he went back up again, sliding his lips up her jugular vein, causing her to arch her back in pleasure.

Kid chuckled softly in her ear, the low, velvet sound sending shivers up her spine, and one of his hands moved up, over the small curve of her breast. He squeezed and worked over her chest, feeling her body, and then gave a moan of longing, and his hands released her. His arm dug into the crook at the back of her knees, and across her shoulders, and he swung her up into his arms. Kid kissed her softly, in the space between her breasts, and carried her down the hall.

He found an empty bedroom, and kicked the door closed behind him. The young shinigami set Maka down on the bed. He kissed her full-on the mouth this time, and Maka felt her body flush with desire as their tongues slid over and around each other, and he began to untie the corset back on her dress. She tugged eagerly at his trench coat, trying to pull it off. He got the message, and drew back to take it off, followed by his shirt. Her lover leaned towards her again, his soft, milky skin running over hers, as he kissed her and twisted his hands around her body, continuing to undo the corset. Maka ran her hands over the sculpted muscles of his upper arms, and down over his neck and chest. He finally managed to unlace the corset back, and pulled her dress off.

The lovers undressed each other the rest of the way, and Kid began to kiss Maka along her collarbone. He descended down to her chest, and she moaned as his mouth closed softly over her breast. His hands wandered still farther down, and she gave a satisfying screech of pleasure as his deft hands found the correct places. Kid smiled against her chest, and worked his fingers harder, gaining more satisfying screams from Maka. He slowly pulled his hand back, causing her to moan, and they made love in earnest, using one of the condoms Liz and given Kid. The sex was hot and slightly rough, the two warriors enjoyed a little aggression. Turns out both had a bit of a sexual dominance complex, as they had discovered recently after they started dating, and each played with the role of dominant-versus-submissive often. The condoms Liz had given her Meister were good, thick ones. They should hold up well. So Kid was shocked when he pulled out to find it broken.

"Shit!" He got up and disposed of it, as Maka watched him from the bed.

"It's okay. I took my pills yesterday evening, and this morning."

He climbed back into bed, and cuddled against her under the covers. "Yeah, but they'll take several days to take effect."

She gently brushed back a few strands of black and white hair from his forehead. "I've already passed my point of most fertility, anyway. Things will be fine, honey."

He sighed, his hot, smoke-scented breath upsetting her hair. "I really hope it will be. We can't afford a baby right now," he murmured, softly rearranging her bangs so they would be symmetrical.

Maka smiled at him, her green eyes soft and dreamy. "A baby would be nice, someday. A son, that looks just like you."

Kid chuckled, and gave her a kiss. He sat up, and began to pull his clothes back on, "The others are probably wondering where we ran off to."

Maka and Kid found Soul, Tania, and the Thompsons up at the bar, chatting away over a round of Amaranth Suckers, a gothic drink that was a shot of whiskey, mixed with blackcurrant juice. Apparently, Soul had treated them all.

"Where's Black Star and Tsubaki?" asked Maka.

Soul shrugged. "I think they went off somewhere. What took you guys so long?"

Liz giggled. "How many condoms do you think they used, Soul?" At this, Soul blanched, looking shocked for a second, then muttered something about talking to Tania about selling more E, and dragged her over to the disc-jockey, whom he sold ecstasy to regularly.

Kid stared after him. "Why does he have such a problem with it?"

"Well, he is my brother."

"Yeah. But it's not like he thinks you're naïve, and he isn't either. I'm one of his best friends, he shouldn't have a problem with the fact that I sleep with his sister."

Maka shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"

"Mmm . . . whatever." Kid pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Maka asked for one, and he inserted one into her mouth, and lit it for her.

"I wonder, where did Black Star and Tsubaki go?"

* * *

Maka and Kid got home earlier than their friends, as Black Star and Tsubaki had yet to show up, and so Soul and the Thompsons had stayed behind to look for them. They walked in to find Crona and Jacqueline standing in the living room. On the floor between them was a dead mouse, and Crona was holding a long, thin black sword in her hands, with a strange red pair of lips halfway down the blade. She was crying as Jackie stood over her, trying to soothe the frightened girl.

"I couldn't help it. It was smiling at me." Crona muttered.

Maka walked up and nudged the decapitated the creature with her foot. "Where's Kim? And what happened?"

"In the bedroom, taking a nap. She killed it with her sword," Jackie supplied grimly.

Crona stared at the sword. "Ragnarok said I should, because I didn't know how to deal with it."

The sword vanished from her hand, seeming to retreat back into Crona's arm, and a small, black being with white-x eyes popped out of her back. "You idiot! You wanted to kill it!" The being pounded on Crona's head, and Maka and Jackie both moved to protect her from the blows. Kid stepped forward, surprised, as the being vanished, retreating back inside Crona.

"The black blood! You're Medusa's child, aren't you?"

"Yes, Nii-san. Medusa-sama is Crona's mama." The little girl teetered back and forth, and a crazy, demented smile spread across her face. "Medusa-sama says I can kill anything I want." She laughed, a high-pitched disturbing giggle.

Kid's eyebrows knitted together, and he bent to her level. "Are you okay?"

She shoved a hand to her mouth and giggled again, her ice-blue eyes shifting around the room. "Do these doors open inwards?"

Kid gently took her face in his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Crona, pay attention. Are you okay?"

"Medusa-sama always gives me thingies . . ." she rambled. "She wants to give me a phasma thingy."

"Phasma? You mean phasmat? Phasmatalphamine?" Kid was intent, now, realizing this child probably knew important information about their enemy gang.

"Yes, Nii-san. Medusa-sama said it would make me big and strong . . ." She giggled again, her pale eyes shifting around the room, that huge, demented smile still plastered to her face.

"Medusa wants the soul crank drug? Are the Gorgons after it?" Kid asked urgently, determined to squeeze as much information out of the girl as possible.

"Yes, Nii-san. Gorgon group kills people when they don't know how to deal with it. Medusa-sama told Crona that other people want it."

"Who are these people?"

"I don't know, Nii-san. Crona was afraid because Medusa-sama was mad. She said the Fish Witch wants it . . . "

And Crona began to cry.


	4. Push

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

_The Undead Young_ Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

_Young_ lyrics copyright (c) 2008 Hollywood Undead. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics

* * *

**Chapter 3: Push**

_I see the life, I see the sky,  
__give it all to see you fly.  
__Yes, we wave this flag of hatred,  
__but you're the ones who made it!  
__Watch the beauty of all our lies,  
__passing right before my eyes._

There was darkness; black, floating darkness in which he was drowning. It was cold, emotionless, and he wondered if this was what oblivion felt like. He became aware of a constant, dull throbbing in the back of his head, as well as the uncontrolled, nauseating sensation of dizziness. The boy allowed himself a low, long groan, and slitted open his eyes. He shut them immediately when they were assaulted by blinding light. Damn, that was excruciating. A hand flew automatically to his forehead, and he rubbed his temples in a circular motion, hoping this would appease the throbbing. Nope, no, it made it worse.

"Black Star?" He could see the light darken through his eyelids. He recognized the voice—as serene and pure as the flower she was named after, soft and soothing like a passing breeze. "Black Star, are you awake?"

"Urrrgghhhh . . . I think I hit my head _really_ hard." The shadow blade meister once again cracked open his eyelids, and took in the blurred outline of the huge, oceanic blue eyes, the delicate nose, the small, soft mouth, of Tsubaki's familiar face. She was dithering, as per usual, and was gently stroking his hair back from his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

She wrung her hands anxiously, and bent over him, her fragrant breath tickling his skin. "Where does it hurt?"

"My head . . . feels like it was hit repeatedly with something big and heavy."

"Ah . . . okay! Here, let me . . ." She left her sentence hanging, suspended, and Black Star heard her scuffle off. The scatter of gravel told him they were not on pavement, and the brick buildings that surrounded his line of vision made it clear that he was lying in an alley. How far away from home were they? It did not sound like the shouts and bustle on the Death Circuit Plaza. It was actually . . . unusually quiet, for the part of the city he was used to. Strange. The assassin experimented with turning his head to the side. He squeezed his eyes shut as he was overtaken with throbs of pain, and his head spun out of control. A scuffling sound, and the soft, high-pitched rise-and-fall sigh of breathing told him Tsubaki was back by his side. Something soft and cool was laid on his forehead, and he allowed himself a small smile. "Thank you, Tsubaki."

"You're welcome! Do you feel any better?"

"Nope. Where the hell are we?"

"Um . . . we're—we're in the Shibusen District."

"Ah, I see."

"Something happened to us last night. At the Crescent."

"Yeah . . . I don't . . . remember much . . ."

Her hand brushed over his forehead again, feather-light, and she gently began to massage his temples in a way that soothed the pain. Black Star smiled—his girl was a lifesaver. "I don't remember anything, either."

Black Star cracked open an eye, surprised at this revelation."You don't?"

"No. I do not."

"Are you okay?"

"Y—Yes, I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me, Tsubaki."

"I—I'm not!"

"Uh-huh." He opened both eyes, taking in the familiar contour of her heart-shaped face. "The last thing I remember was talking to you and Soul at the Crescent. And I think Liz might have been there, but I'm not sure . . ."

"She was, but she was sort of dancing with a guy and talking to us at the same time."

"Ah, okay."

"Feeling any—"

"Nope."

Tsubaki's sweet face fell, and she sighed, softly. Black Star reached up, and gently ran a hand idly over her face. "Hey, I'm fine. No need to get too worried. It's the great me!" She nodded silently, and her soft, velvety blue eyes flickered to the side. She seemed to be glancing at something. The ninja assassin raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Um—uh—n—nothing—"

"Tsubaki, what's wrong?"

"Uh—um—there's—there's this case . . ."

"What?"

Tsubaki shrugged noncommittally, then arose again. She walked from his line of sight, and he heard her grunt as she picked up something heavy. Her footsteps returned, and she was carrying a heavy, metallic-and-plastic black case. His head was throbbing less, so he was able to turn it a bit, and watched as she set the case down with a rather loud thud. She turned it so it faced him, and unlocked the silver buckles along the edge. Black Star leaned over, attempting to see into the depths of the object. The lid opened and Tsubaki moved aside. Inside were two large silver-and-glass syringes—the type used for administering heavy drugs in large doses, with an enormous needle; it would be fed directly into the vein. Under the two syringes were four cylindrical vessels full of a clear, iridescent liquid. Black Star squinted; it seemed to glow slightly, and was it giving off an energy signature? Black Star stared up at Tsubaki. "What the hell is this?"

Wordlessly, she pointed at a label along the bottom. Black Star raised an eyebrow—it was a long, strange word he had never seen or experienced before, and he struggled to sound it out.

_PHASMATALPHAMINE._

* * *

Maka scowled as she chopped the fish, dividing it evenly and precisely, or else, of course, Kid would throw a hissy-fit. Her boyfriend was currently out with Soul, searching for Black Star and Tsubaki. Her brother, Liz, and Patti had failed in finding them last night, and the two had been declared missing by the Death Circuit Plaza community. Half the population of their building was out, searching for their lost allies and friends. Maka sighed, and began placing the partially cooked tuna and salmon on the neatly laid out strips of seaweed and rice. She began rolling each, and double-checked the miso soup, which was simmering in a pot on the stove. Though there was no electricity, the natural gas of the stove still worked, and it simply lit using a lighter.

The scythe meister turned down the heat a bit, and stirred the pot. Kid had left early that morning before she woke up, leaving her with a very sweet note, so she hadn't seen him at all that day. Maka had been left playing mother to the child the young couple had decided to look after, for the time being. She glanced at the small girl at the table, playing with a coloring book and crayons Kid and Maka had bought on their way home from the Crescent the night before. "Crona, dinner will be ready very soon."

"Y—yes, Nee-chan."

Maka smiled softly. Crona was a good girl, and was mostly very soft-spoken and shy. Most eight-year-olds were rather precocious. Maka finished rolling the sushi, and arranged it in a symmetrical fashion on a serving plate. She washed her hands of the fish and seaweed juices, and went over to see what Crona was doing. She was currently coloring in an outline of Cinderella dancing with Prince Charming, and Maka smiled. "You color in the lines very well. Kid might have to take you under his wing."

"Nii-san? H—how come?"

"Well, he draws. He can show you some of his pictures when he gets home."

"Okay . . ." Crona allowed herself a small smile, and colored in Cinderella's dress with some orange. "You—You're really nice, Nee-chan."

"Thank you. You're very nice, too, Crona." Maka gently ran her hands through Crona's hair, playing with the fine strands, and then turned away to finish off the miso soup. She was just pouring it off into a serving bowl, when an alabaster hand appeared on her hip, a cigarette between the fingers, and a small bouquet of exactly four white and four red roses appeared in her line of vision. Maka couldn't help but grin like an idiot. "Hey, stranger."

His soft lips pressed against her cheek. "Hey. You look fantabulous today." Maka giggled. Kid would use a word like "fantabulous" only around her, only to compliment her.

"Thank you." Maka finished pouring the soup, and covered it, before turning around in his arms. She smiled softly as she leaned up and kissed him. His lips were soft, and he tasted good, as always. She softly brushed a hand over his face, and took the flowers from him, burying her face in them, and inhaled their scent. "They're so pretty." She peeked over his shoulder to see a brown grocery bag sitting on the table. "And you went shopping? Oh, how sweet!"

"Mmmmm, anything for my darling," he whispered, kissing her forehead, her nose, her mouth. "And dinner smells delicious." He chuckled softly, and took a drag on his cigarette. "You might want to double-check the bouquet." He kissed her one last time, and drew away. Maka watched as he went over to see what Crona was doing. Maka stared down at the flowers in her hands. Double-check the bouquet? She raised an eyebrow, and inspected the roses carefully. She noticed a flash of white where there shouldn't be, and reached into the bouquet. Turned out it was an envelope. Maka stared at it for a minute, then opened it.

"WHAT? Muse tickets? Oh, Kid . . ."

She heard him chuckle, as she stared in wonder at the two pieces of paper. "The black market is an amazing place. Check the seats."

"Wh—row B43? The center seats in the _second row_?"

"And check the date of the concert." He was grinning like a madman, now, she could tell from his voice.

"March 27th . . . the day we—"

"Met, yes."

"How . . .?"

"Connections, lots of persuasion, and sheer luck."

Maka beamed at him, and opened the cupboard. She pulled out the one elegant glass vase they owned, and set to work putting the flowers in water. She listened to Kid as he talked to Crona, while he put the groceries away. "You color very well."

"Th—thank you, Nii-san."

"Maybe I could teach you to draw. Yes? Would that be good?"

"Okay . . . b—but . . . I don't know how to deal with it . . ."

"It's fine. I could help you."

"O—Okay . . ."

"You could get to be very good, Crona-chan."

"Y—yes, Nii-san."

Maka finished setting up the bouquet, and set it on the table. Kid paused in pulling the groceries from the bag, stared at the vase for a full twenty seconds as he blew out a plume of smoke, and rearranged the roses. Maka rolled her eyes and went to the counter, and grabbed the plate of sushi and the miso soup. Kid smiled, and inhaled deeply. "It smells delicious." Maka smiled, and set the dishes down before pulling Kid into a hug, and kissed him sweetly. "Anything for my shinigami. I expect this is for our first-year anniversary?"

"Of course."

"Good. Well, dinner is ready, so get the groceries off the table."

"Yes, darling." He nodded, and released her. "Crona-chan, could you set the table?" he asked, killing the live cig in the table ashtray.

"Y—yes, Nii-san!" She jumped up, and rushed over to the counter. Maka chuckled.

"Calm down, you don't need to do it so fast. Relax, the dishes aren't gonna grow legs and run away!"

"O—Oh . . . okay, Nee-chan."

She picked up the dishes, and calmly walked back to the kitchen table, setting each at the three chairs around it. She set the chopsticks, next, and the spoon. Maka smiled at the child. "Good job, Crona." She filled three bowls full of steaming white rice, and brought them over and set them down. Kid stared at the arrangement. His eye twitched. Maka shot him a look. "Leave it be, it's fine."

"B—but—"

"She's doing a good job. Leave it."

"Asymmet—"

"Leave. It."

"Errgghhhhhh!" He sat down, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, staring with great intensity at his plate, which was slightly off to the left. Maka came by with the sushi, and set six pieces on his plate, arranging them in a perfect circle. A small smile spread across Kid's face. "I love you, Maka-chan."

"And I love you, Anata."

Kid looked up. "Anata?" She had never called him that, before.

Maka shrugged, and bent over and kissed him. "I figure I might as well start calling you that. Especially since you're buying us expensive tickets to see our favorite bands."

Kid blushed, and stared at his food. "Isn't that counting your chickens before they hatch?"

"Meh. I love you, Anata." Maka stated it simply, as though it were obvious and perfect.

"I see . . ." Kid watched as Maka served Crona four pieces, and sat down herself.

"Thank you for the meal." Crona stated politely.

"Yes, thank you for the meal." Kid agreed. Maka dug in immediately, while Kid poured his miso soup, "So, we have no leads thus far on where Tsubaki and Black Star have gone."

"Oh. What could have happened to them last night? I mean, when was the last time Soul, Liz, and Patti had seen them?"

"They were talking to them, you know, having normal conversation, when the two of them went off to put in a request to the DJ. And that was it. They weren't seen after that. Mmmm, your soup is good, as always."

"Thank you, Anata. It sounds like they were . . . maybe kidnapped or something? But who would attack Black Star? His reputation as a fighter precedes him."

Kid shrugged. "I have no idea."

Maka paused, with her chopsticks in her mouth. Where could they possibly be? She and Kid had been otherwise occupied, in the back area making love. She sighed—if they had been around, then her two friends probably wouldn't be missing right now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Things were obviously afoot, what with Crona Gorgon being found drugged the fuck out of her wits, and the strange pre-Kishin soul. The girl had calmed considerably throughout today; Maka's soul wavelength seemed to have a calming, purifying effect on the eight-year-old. Kid watched Maka carefully, noticing the way she slowed in her eating, and the way her soft, huge green eyes stared at the table.

He sighed. "Maka, don't blame yourself."

"I—I'm not . . ."

"Yes you are." Kid sighed as well and tilted his head to the side. "I can always tell when you feel guilty."

"It's all my fault, I should've been more on guard; I am in charge of gang well-being."

"It's fine, Maka."

"I'm the gang-leader's girl, it's as much my responsibi—"

"It's _fine_, Maka."

The scythe meister stared at her plate, and slowly lowered her chopsticks to the white-and-flower decorated porcelain. She tapped the plate idly, huge aurora-eyes lowered in self-inflicted guilt and shame, soft, long, pale eyelashes only visible against her dark eyes. Kid sighed, and leaned across the table. He reached a hand across, and gently ran his palm over her cheekbone. "Maka. Sometimes, things just happen, and there's nothing you can do to control them. I feel ten times worse than you probably do, and I've had to deal with our allies chewing me out for being irresponsible all day. I don't want to see you feeling guilty over something for which you are not to blame. It's my fault, not yours."

Maka's huge eyes raised to his, and the shinigami found himself lost in liquid emerald. "But it's my job to keep an eye on our gang, too. I'm your first advisor; I help in gang security."

"Yes. True. But Soul is the one who's in charge of our security, and he saw Black Star and Tsubaki before they disappeared. You simply assist him."

"What, so now it's all my brother's fault?!"

Kid shrugged, and continued without comment. "And I should have been more wary and kept us all together. I shouldn't have taken you into the bedroom—I should have been out there with everyone else."

"Well . . . I didn't stop you."

"I seduced you."

"Wh—what does 'seduced' mean?"

Both teenagers looked up to see Crona staring at them over her bowl of miso, the spoon paused halfway to her mouth as she stared at them in fascination. Maka bit her lip and wondered how long she had been watching their discussion. Kid smiled sheepishly. "Uh, it means nothing you need to know, sweetheart. Finish your meal. Maka, we can discuss this later."

"'Kay."

Dinner was finished in conversation with Crona. Kid ended up pulling out his sketchbook and showing her the many (not nude) drawings he had of Maka, in addition to their other friends and allies. The little girl stared in fascination as he explained a charcoal drawing of Maka and Soul, the scythe meister smiling casually with an arm slung casually over her brother's shoulders, while Soul held up bunny-ear fingers behind her head.

The two siblings looked nothing alike, besides the fact that both had fair coloring. But in terms of facial structure and in Maka's case, coloring, both took after their mothers. Soul's coloring was a result of his weapon heritage. They had been mistaken for a couple multiple times, due to their closeness and familiarity with each other, as well as their apparent lack of shared genes. Black Star enjoyed cracking jokes about incest between them, at which Maka would scowl and deck him with her latest novel, and Soul would glare with great intensity until his friend shut up.

Crona stared at the drawing for a long moment, after Kid finished his explanation. "Is Soul related to Nee-chan?"

"Yes. They're half-brother and sister."

"Oh. They don't look like it . . ."

"I know. How about you go get your pajamas on, now? It's late. Almost bedtime for little girls."

"Yes, Nii-san!" She hopped out of her chair, and hurried off to the bathroom. Maka, who was washing dishes at the sink, stared after for a moment.

Kid offered her a small smile. "I don't think she needs help, I get the sense that she's been taking care of herself for a while. Sort of like how you and I had to as children."

"Uh—yes!" Maka nodded, and returned to washing dishes.

"May I cook tomorrow?"

"No. You can't cook."

"Yes I _can._"

"Mistaking salt for sugar and baking soda for flour is _not_ knowing how to cook."

"But I measure everything perfectly and precisely!"

"No." Maka smirked. She was being met with silence, which meant he was sulking, which meant he had that irresistibly adorable pout on his face she loved so much. She continued to wash the dishes, allowing the heavy silence to permeate the kitchen. Kid was an easy egg to crack. He couldn't stand the silent treatment for more than a few minutes, but Maka could keep it up for _days._ There had been a few occasions where she had been furious at him, and had kept up the silence for up to a week, during which Kid would be utterly miserable, until he finally begged for forgiveness. A few minutes passed before footsteps behind Maka told her Kid was done sulking.

"Well, I guess that's okay. I'm going to take a bath, now."

"Okay!"

After Maka put Crona to bed, she had decided to sit and read while she had a much-needed smoke, when a knock at the door alerted her. She got up and answered it to find a medium-height girl several years older than her standing in the doorway. She had long, wavy auburn hair and bright brown eyes. Maka smiled. "Hi! You're from Pandora, aren't you?" she asked, naming one of the Children's allies.

"Yeah! I had some information about Black Star, and Tsubaki."

"Oh! What's up?"

"Well . . ." The girl looked about her, wary, then leaned in to whisper to the shorter blonde, "I don't know their whereabouts. But I heard some rumors . . . apparently they have a huge black case with them. People say it's filled with vials of phasmatalphamine."

Maka gasped. "Where did you hear this?"

The informant shrugged. "Around."

"I see. So . . . if we find the case, we can find our friend?"

"Exactly!"

"Thank you! Oh, didn't catch your name!"

"You don't need to know it."

The girl walked off before Maka could ask any more questions. The scythe Meister sighed, and closed the door. A case of phasmatalphamine? With Black Star and Tsubaki? This was becoming more dangerous by the minute. She finished off her cigarette, wandered down the hall, and leaned against the bathroom door. The lack of running water, and a gentle sloshing sound told her that Kid was already enjoying his bath. She knocked gently on the dark wood.

"Yes?"

"Anata? May I join you?"

"Certainly."

Maka opened the door, and entered the rather steamy, small bathroom. She smiled at Kid reclining in the tub, curled in a corner as he leaned against the edge.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, his huge, slanted, golden eyes watching her with intent and obvious hunger as she began to undress.

Maka shrugged noncommittally, and ignored his question for the most part. She didn't want to worry him too much. She pulled off the last of her undergarments and stepped towards the tub. Kid's eyes traced the curves of her body as she approached, drinking every little detail of sinuous, lithe muscle and delicate, soft, peach skin. Maka smiled at him, again, as she stepped into the warm water, and sat down beside him. He moved so that she could scooch close, and lean against him. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her close.

"So, you just thought you'd come in and be tempting as hell?"

Maka giggled. "I guess."

He nuzzled her hair, and his hands traced gently over the curve of her torso, his palms running from her ribcage down to her hips, and back up again. "I heard someone at the door. What was up?"

"Oh. Well . . . it was an informant about Black Star and Tsubaki."

"Oh? And what did they say?"

"Uh . . ." Maka hesitated. Kid's lips pressed softly against her neck, and he cooed softly and incoherently in her ear. Okay, she would tell him. "That there are rumors that they have a case of soul crank."

She felt Kid's body stiffen for a moment against hers, then relax as he exhaled. "I see."

"They're just rumors, Anata-kun."

"I know . . ." He fell silent for a moment. Maka closed her eyes and leaned farther into him, her head resting against his chest. She was just beginning to fully relax, when she felt his soft hand cup her breast. She opened her eyes. "I'm not in the mood right now." His hand squeezed, and moved to toy with her nipple. Maka moaned. "Kid, I said I'm not . . ."

"Doesn't sound like it." He whispered in her ear.

"Soul talked to me last night, and he's worried about me getting pr—pregnant . . . uuhhnnnn . . ."

"You're on birth control." His lips pressed softly against her earlobe, then his tongue slithered over the shell that shaped the back of her ear. Maka shuddered; he knew she loved it when he did that.

"Unfair . . ."

He chuckled softly. "You can always tell me to stop. Do you want me too?"

" . . . nnn . . . no. But Soul is right. We need to be more careful. There was already that slip-up last night with the condom."

Kid sighed. "I know. And it is a big brother's job to worry about his sister."

"Exactly."

Kid pouted. "So we end here?"

Maka stared at him, indecisive, as he continued to pout. Very cutely. Maka twitched. "Stop it, you're making this more difficult." Kid tilted his head and stared up at her through his bangs. Unfair, unfair, _unfair_. Maka glared back. Kid's face broke into a slow, sexy smile.

"It's so cute when you get all unsure."

"Ugh! Stop iiiit!" It didn't help that he was smiling at her with the favorite crooked smile he saved just for her, and slowly, _slowly_ was allowing his little pink tongue to flicker deliciously over those full, pale pink lips.

"Why? What's wrong~?"

Maka felt her face burn and resisted the urge to giggle like an idiot. She would not melt, she would not melt, _she would not melt. _She. Would. Not. Melt. He was leaning towards her, now, and next thing she knew, his hand had grasped her arm, and he was pulling her toward him, as his other arm circled around her and entrapped her waist. Maka tried her best to put up a show of struggling, despite the fact that she was hypnotized by his huge, soft metallic-golden eyes. "W—we need to be careful . . ."

His eyes were still on hers, melting with hot, molten ochre. Maka found herself drowning in the rich color, and closed her eyes automatically when his lips pressed against hers, and his tongue dug in. She allowed herself a moan, and relaxed as his hands once again found her chest. Maka wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. His skin was slippery under her hands, and his soft, inky hair was wet as she tangled her fingers in it. He drew back, and he began laying kisses down her neck.

Maka arched her back. "Nii—Nii-chan said . . . we need to be careful . . . and . . ."

"And what, darling?" he asked, his fingers of one of his hands tracing down her body, lower and lower.

"Um . . . I—uh—nevermind . . ."

"What is it?" he whispered, as he found what he wanted. Maka released a long soprano moan as he slid his fingers between her legs, and inside. Maka opened her eyes and stared at him as he began a steady rhythm.

"I think I . . . uuuhhhnn . . . I . . . forgot . . ." She arched her back and moaned his name, and Kid increased the pace.

"Mmmm . . . "

"Good?" Kid said skeptically, pounding his fingers in even harder. Maka's nails tightened against his back, and she moaned even louder.

"Good . . ."

"I'm glad." he murmured, as he finished with his fingers, and gently pushed her back against the far edge of the bathtub.

"Love you," Maka murmured.

"Love you, too." Kid smiled, and leaned in and kissed her as he slid inside. He felt Maka shudder, and moaned himself as he felt her body hug his length.

He stared down at her to find that she looked unsure. "Is my birth control in full effect?"

Kid began a steady pace as he nodded. "Yes, Maka-chan, it should be by now . . . mmmmm . . . " He leaned down and kissed her. He plunged even deeper with a low _you feel good_. Maka moaned in agreement against his lips; probably trying to mutter something, but he couldn't understand what. He heard her gasp, and her muscles tightened around him. He moaned, and pounded even harder, his muscles happily tensing in response to the sensation. Kid allowed himself a chuckle. "You still worried?"

"N—no . . ." She stared up at him, her lips parted as she struggled for air, and arched her back as her muscles wound even tighter around him, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Good. You . . . uuhhnnn . . . you feel _good_ . . . you don't . . . have to ever . . . worry . . ."

"'Kay . . . ahhhh, yes, harder . . ."

She pulled him down into a kiss, and wriggled her hips, trying to get him to rub more rapidly against her insides. He felt himself move in deeper—better. He plunged even harder, and he heard her give a strangled, muffled moan. It mixed with his own, and he could feel himself growing close to the edge. He braced his muscles and pounded even harder. Maka shouted his name, and it was only three hard, deep thrusts before he felt her body tighten around him, then release, the heat of her fluids releasing on his skin. He followed right after, and leaned against her as the last of the high faded, staring into her eyes, which was doubled by his vision, since they were so close to each other.

Maka's arms tightened around him. "I love you."

Kid kissed her softly. "I love you, too."

Maka grinned and kissed him. "Well then."

"Well then . . . I'm still inside you, and it is very comfortable."

"I see. And are you going to do something about that, shinigami?"

Kid smiled mischievously, and kissed her on the forehead. "Maybe, darling." He wriggled inside her, and Maka could feel him already swelling, again. She leaned up and kissed him, and he squeezed her breasts, and moaned. "Okay, I will do something."

"What are we doing about Black Star and Tsubaki? And may I be on top, Anata?"

"Yes, you may, darling," he said, and held her as he turned over gently, so she straddled him. Maka began grinding her hips against him, and he moaned as his hands moved to her pelvis, and began slamming her down harder. Maka gasped, but managed to repeat her previous question.

"Uuhhnn . . . oh . . . I have . . . some connections . . . mmmm . . . you always feel _so _good . . . I'll do some . . . thing . . . uuhhhhnn, yes, harder . . . about it . . . tomorrow . . ."

* * *

The young shinigami sighed as he pulled yet another twenty out of his pocket, and rolled his eyes after the bartender swiped it and retired to the back to grab his informant. Milking bartenders for information was _expensive._ He was currently in a small, out of the way pub on the Circuit. He had followed the veins of information as they arose, talking to his many connections, and gaining more and more information, as well as a bigger picture of things.

Turns out that this supposed case of soul crank did indeed exist; it was the result of an escapee test subject, who had panicked after being injected with the drug, taking several thousand dollars worth of research and scientific value with her in the form of that case. She had been seen by several witnesses, phasmat in tow, and had been the target of several attacks already, due to the rumors surrounding the supposed goods inside. Kid wondered idly if this girl was that pre-Kishin they had to kill. He sincerely hoped not. He had run into a wall on his last informant, who had refused Kid information unless the gang leader allowed the informant to sleep with Liz and Patti—an agreement to which Kid would most certainly not acquiesces. He valued his best friends and weapons highly, and he was glad he refused as he looked from one sister to the other, sitting on either side of him.

Kid looked up as the bartender returned with another man, "Ya gonna buy a drink?"

Kid smiled across to Liz, as he pulled his pack out, "You still want that martini?" He asked, lighting up. The nicotine helped his money anxiety, he thought.

"Yeah. Thanks!"

Kid sighed. "No problem." He said, pulling out his wallet once again.

The things he did for information. Goddamn, this was expensive_._ The bartender swept it up, smiling. Kid's informant was a tall man with brown hair and a crooked nose. The young gang leader tried his best to smile pleasantly as he slapped yet another twenty on the table, and took another drag of nicotine. He would have to talk to Black Star about his crank intake, and the girls about how much they spend on beauty products. Maybe he and Maka could give up their cigarettes, too. It was a bad habit, anyhow.

"So. What can you tell me about these rumors that have been spreading?"

The informant shrugged and leaned against the bar, relaxing casually as he studied Kid. "I have a name. This guy I know apparently deals in some sort of business that pertains to soul trafficking."

Kid arched an eyebrow, as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "You know I don't condone that. If I find out who this is, I will have to catch or report him. Do you care?"

The man made a negative waving gesture, to show that wasn't his intention. "I'm not giving names. He knows a man directly involved in the business, a representative of this illegal trafficking company. This representative has important information on this case of—what is it—soul crank? Apparently, the soul trade company has been following it, since it showed up on the Circuit."

"I see. What's his name and location?"

The informant made a gimme gesture with his hand. Kid rolled his eyes. "You're good for ten."

"Fifteen."

Kid bit his lip. "How 'bout twelve?"

"Sticking with fifteen.'

"Ugh, fine." Kid pulled out his wallet yet again and slapped down fifteen. "This informant better be good, this is almost the last of my money—I've been asking people all day." He took a pull nervously on his cigarette, tapping the fingers of his free hand against the wood of the bar.

"Don't worry. He won't accept money for giving information. He's some sort of Shinja priest."

Kid raised both eyebrows at this. "And he's in the soul trafficking business? Sounds like a contradiction of our own doctrine. I won't have my father's laws challenged."

The guy shrugged. "I know, Shinigami. But you can pick that bone with him. His name is Justin Law. You can find him at this address." He grabbed a pen sitting nearby, and scribbled something down on an order pad before sliding it across to Kid.

The shinigami smiled and nodded. "Awesome. Thank you." He tore the note off the pad, and slipped it into his pocket as he stood. "Liz, Patti. Let's go."

His weapons followed automatically, Liz quickly finishing off her martini, and leaving the glass for the bartender to clean up. Kid pulled out the address once again, and stared at it. He realized it was an abandoned church, located in the most dangerous part of the Death Circuit Plaza. How fun. Kid sighed, and put the address away, holding out each of his hands automatically, "Liz, Patti." His weapons transformed and flipped themselves into his hands, and he caught them easily upside-down, the gesture entirely automatic. The young shinigami slipped his guns into his pockets, concealing the fact that he was armed, and slinked his way through the streets.

As he progressed deeper and deeper into the area where Justin Law resided, it became obvious that this was the area with the highest crime, and the most villains. While the Children lived on the Death Circuit Plaza, it was truly in the less-dangerous area, where the younger, more teenage population resided, and most of the residents were—well—human. The area Kid was entering was the place where pre-Kishin formed, and people consumed the souls of the murdered and the weak. A powerful, immortal soul such as his was probably a giant beacon to anything predating on the souls of the pure. Thus the reason he had Liz and Patti in their gun forms, and walked with his hands in his pockets, fingers wrapped around the handles and pinkies resting on the triggers.

The church was old and dilapidated, yet Kid could tell it was a historical work of architecture. What a shame. Death City was an ancient metropolis, and had been around for hundreds of years; it was around Shibusen that the city had been built. He stared up at the circular stained glass window, inset over the huge, oak carved doors, the condition of which was scratched and worn. He walked up to the huge double doors, and found that his heart was beating somewhere in his throat. He hesitated for a moment. What would the reaction of these soul traffickers be, to see a shinigami simply showing up on their doorstep, and walking right into their lair? His appearance gave all away, no one forgot the distinctively designed white sanzu lines, or the penetrating gold eyes. He bit his lip, anxious.

He felt Liz twitch in his fingers. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"What's going to happen to me, if I walk right in? I'll be a giant target to them."

"But you're not an _easy_ target." Patti stated simply. Kid sighed, debating with himself.

"Don't you want this information?" Liz asked.

Kid sighed. "Yes." He took a step forward, squeezing his fingers around Liz and Patti in his pockets, as he gently tapped his foot against the door to knock, as his hands refused to leave his guns. There was a long, pregnant, pause, that seemed to extend too far for Kid's comfort, before the door moved, and a single, slanted brown eye peered around the crack.

"Yes? What do you want?"

"I'm here to see Justin Law. I need some information."

The eye narrowed suspiciously. "Information on what?"

Kid paused for a moment, debating how much he should tell. "I need information on certain rumors that have been circulating, surrounding a new drug."

"I see. One moment, I must speak with Noah-sama." The door closed, and Kid sighed, trying to calm his racing heart. He tapped his fingers against Liz and Patti, and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. If he was anxious, they would pick up on it, and exploit that weakness. He looked up as he heard the door move, and this time it fully opened to reveal a man about Kid's height. He had noncommittal wavy brown hair that reached to his shoulders, and slanted, brown eyes. He beckoned Kid.

"Noah-sama said it's okay. Justin is waiting." He began walking, and Kid nervously followed. He jumped when he heard the door shut behind him, and glanced back to see that a doorkeeper was standing by. The shinigami mused suspiciously whether the keeper had been planted there just now, in order to keep him in. He positioned his thumbs on the cock-pulls of his demon pistols, ready to set and draw if the need arose. The guide led him through several halls, which twisted and turned in an almost labyrinthine fashion, before they finally stopped before a door. Kid squeezed his guns nervously, as his guide opened the door, and led him inside.

"Gopher, what d'you want?" The priest was fair, with hair the color of lemons and candle light, and brilliantly blue sapphire eyes. The other man stepped aside, to reveal Kid standing nervously with his hands in his pockets.

"This shinigami wants information." The almond-eyed gaze turned on Kid. "You have fifteen minutes." Gopher left without another word, shutting the door firmly behind him with a loud snap. Kid could have sworn he heard the scrape and click of a tumbler turning over in a lock. Great. Just great. The young shinigami remained tensed and wary as Justin rose from his seat where he had obviously been reading at the table, and approached Kid.

"What information do you need, shinigami?"

"I need some rumors confirmed surrounding a case of soul crank. I heard that Black Star and Tsubaki Nakatsukasa of the Children of Death were in possession of this case, and was also told that you know of their whereabouts."

Justin casually inspected his nails, watching the boy out of the corners of his striking blue eyes. "Yes, I have been tracking the case since it appeared on the Circuit. What's it to you?"

Kid bit his lip, his hands flexing on his guns. "A gang leader always likes to know the whereabouts and well-being of his members." He stated cryptically.

The sharp blue eyes snapped up to Kid's liquid gold. "Ah, so I have the gang leader of the infamous Children in my midst. The famous young reaper himself." Kid remained unmoving, unwilling to confirm or deny that information. Justin smirked, and clasped his hands behind his back, walking around Kid as his eyes looked the boy up and down, inspecting and analyzing.

"I see. And you want to know where your friends are, yes?"

Kid again remained immobile. The smirk on Justin's face widened into a grin. "You do realize what kind of territory you're in at the moment, don't you?"

Kid arched an eyebrow. "I hear that you're in the business of buying and selling souls, of which I disapprove."

"Ah, of course. But you'll choose on this occasion to overlook my moral conduct if I give you this information?"

"Yes."

"Will you grant me immunity?"

Kid's glowing ochre eyes narrowed. "No. I cannot do that." Justin arched an eyebrow, and stopped in circling Kid.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot grant you the information you so desire." Kid's grips on Liz and Patti tightened once again, and he withdrew the guns slightly from his pockets.

"You're lucky I'm letting you off at this moment." Kid's voice held an edge, descending to a low, tense hiss. "I rarely allow the evil to go unpunished."

Justin narrowed his eyes, and leaned it towards Kid, his face suddenly inches from the shinigami's. "I suggest you grant me imm—" His sentence was cut off as Kid brought his pistols up and struck Justin under the chin, sending the priest flying backwards. Before the man could recover, Kid had his guns on him, each barrel pressed to his temples.

"You will tell me the information I want, and you will tell me, _now_. I have every reason to kill you if you don't, and I can always find someone else to inform me if need be."

Justin narrowed his eyes. "And what if you run into a wall? What if I'm the only one who can give you this information, young _death prince_?" The guns pressed farther into Justin's head, and Kid stroked the triggers.

"_Don't test me_." He shoved Liz harder into the victim's head. "I have the power to kill you, and I will. Now tell me, what are the whereabouts of Black Star and Tsubaki?"

The priest stared up at Kid for a long moment, observing the merciless yellow glare of the shinigami, and his gaze dropped. "They were last seen in the Shibusen District, near the commercial area. That's all I know." Kid paused for a long moment, before releasing Justin, and backing away.

"Thank you." He walked over to the door, and tried the knob with gun still in hand. Locked. Next thing he knew, the wind was knocked out of him, and he was pressed against the wall, cool metal pressed against his neck.

"You really think I'd let you go so easily?" Justin laughed softly in Kid's ear. "Teenagers these days . . . all so gullible." Kid grunted, and elbowed Justin hard in the stomach. The priest released him, and Kid took the opportunity to shoot the lock. He tried the knob, and this time it worked.

"GET BACK HERE, SHINIGAMI!" Kid rushed down the hall, running pell-mell toward any exit he could find. He skidded to a halt as Gopher appeared before him, and looked back to see Justin fast approaching. Patti laughed.

"I'll handle this one, Kiddo!"

Kid grinned. "Right." He released her and she transformed. The girl immediately fell into a fighting stance.

"Bring it on, bitches! KYAHAHA!" Justin came at her first, swiping in with his left arm, the blade going for her stomach. She grabbed his arms and pulled him forward, and kneed him hard between the legs. He squeaked and went down. Patti laughed maniacally, and turned with a psychotic smile towards Gopher. The man regarded the demon pistol with obvious fear, and slowly backed away before running off. Patti stuck out her tongue after him, before transforming back into a gun. Kid looked about.

"Gopher's probably raising an alarm. We have to get out."

"I spotted an entrance through a passage you passed earlier. Down the hall, and to the left. This way." Liz's image appeared in the shiny exterior of the gun, and pointed in the correct direction. Kid took off in the direction she indicated, remaining wary. He turned the corner, and smiled as he saw the exit.

"You're a life saver, Liz."

She shrugged. "Hey, I try."

Kid grinned, and exited quickly. He made sure he was out of the bad area of the Circuit, before he slowed to a walk. He stopped and leaned against a wall, as Liz and Patti transformed back into humans at Kid's cue. He sighed as he leaned back against the wall, and pulled out his pack.

"I suppose we should search the Shibusen District, next."

* * *

Kid sighed as he stared into the depths of his empty glass, as he and his weapons sat at the bar of the Crescent. Patti was sleepy, and dozed against his shoulder, as Liz idly entertained herself with a game of solitaire. Liz, Patti, and their meister had searched the Shibusen District thoroughly, from top to bottom. They had found clues, and they now knew the whereabouts of Black Star and Tsubaki, and that case. The only problem was that they were all the way on the other side of the city, in the suburban area. It would take a day and a half to walk that far, and Kid highly doubted that anyone would pick up a couple of hitchhiking street kids. Besides, Maka would kill him for going alone. He looked up as the bar tender appeared before him, a pretty woman with long, wavy brown hair and ice blue eyes. "Would you like more, Reaper?"

"No, Chartreuse, I'm fine."

Chartreuse bent over, and peered gently at his face. "Are you okay? You seem down. Don't you know where your friends are, now?"

"Yes." Kid smiled wanly. "But I'm afraid that getting to them will be dangerous. It will be even more so when we meet up with them, and I'm worried it will make my entire gang walking targets."

"Ah, I see." She smiled and took his glass, and gently touched his cheek in a friendly gesture. "You're all tough. I'm sure your loved ones will be fine."

Kid shrugged. "I hope." Chartreuse smiled, then turned to serve another customer, before retiring to the back. It was currently down-time at the Crescent, as people rarely visited in the late afternoon. There was a fair amount of patrons, but not as many as what appeared on the nightlife. Kid kept his head down, watching Liz as she played solitaire, and paid little attention as he heard the door open. He looked up as Liz poked him with her sharp nail, and pointed at the new patron. Kid narrowed his eyes, "You two go home. I'll handle this."

Liz nodded wordlessly, and stood, waking Patti. The two demon pistols quickly exited, as the blond woman who had just entered sauntered up to the counter. Chartreuse returned, and smiled as she gave the customer who had previously ordered their drink. She turned with a smile to her newest patron. Kid eyed her suspiciously as the woman ordered a Corona, before she sat down on the stool that Patti had previously occupied, beside Kid. Two sets of intense gold clashed and rubbed against each other.

"Fancy meeting you here." Medusa Gorgon tilted her head in an almost cute way, as she surveyed Kid. The shinigami hissed slightly through his teeth, in an almost ironic mockery of the sound of his enemy's vector arrows.

"What do you want?"

"Who said I wanted anything?"

Kid arched an eyebrow. "You never approach me in a neutral environment such as this, without wanting something." Indeed, it was unwritten law that the Crescent was a place of perpetual and temporary truce—gang fights in no way were allowed here. It was always to be taken outside or elsewhere, thus the reason Kid felt he could be unarmed. Medusa accepted her drink, and sipped it for a moment before speaking.

"Word has spread that two of your gang members have gone missing. But, according to certain people, you now know where they are, and that they have a case of soul crank." Kid stared at the table.

"Fuck." He shouldn't have let Justin Law live. He knew the Gorgons where also involved in the soul trafficking business, and God knows he had been trying and failing to stamp them out for years. Of course they would probably know Justin Law. Hell, the entire bad side of the Circuit had probably heard about the young Mr. Reaper who had fled Noah's lair, whomever Noah was in the first place. He heard Medusa chuckle softly, and jumped when he felt warm breath tickling his ear. He looked up and flinched away when he realized her face was inches from his. She laughed again.

"I've come to make you a deal, pretty shinigami." Kid narrowed his eyes.

"What sort of deal?"

He felt his skin crawl as she lifted a finger and stroked his cheek gently. He again pulled away, and she giggled as he shuddered. "If you allow the Gorgons to track your Children as you find the case, we will let you all live once we get the drug." Kid narrowed his eyes.

"Absolutely not. That case is going to be located and destroyed."

Medusa pouted, and leaned again into Kid's personal space. "Really? Are you sure just won't use it to gain more power? I hear it's never been tested on a shinigami . . ." The boy shied away, and leaned back against the bar, sitting as far from his enemy as possible.

"A drug like that shouldn't exist. Shibusen has obviously been corrupted."

Medusa shrugged. "What is corrupted?"

Kid stood abruptly. "I'm leaving." He began making his way back to the door. He was wary of Medusa approaching behind him, and expected ity when she grabbed his arms and slammed him back against the wall near the door. The shorter boy glared up at the Snake Witch, and he struggled against her grasp. She only grabbed his hands, and leaned in close, so her lips almost brushed against his.

"You don't want to say no to a Gorgon sister or brother, boy. You won't live to see the next sunrise." Kid glared right back, his heart in his throat at her close proximity, and the feeling of her breath on his lips. What would Maka say?

"I refuse. I don't make deals with snakes and dev—" His speech was cut off as a a hand was pressed against his windpipe. The boy gasped for air, and scrabbled at the palm pressing against his throat. Medusa's features widened into a grotesque, snake-like smile, as she raised her free hand in and folded down her ring and little fingers, leaving her thumbs and first two fingers stiffened and pointing straight out.

"Wrong answer. Vector Ar—"

Her attack was cut off as a large, blunt object was rammed into her head. Kid was released, and gasped as his breath returned. He came away from the wall, and rubbed his neck, coughing and regaining his breath. He observed the young woman, who stood over his enemy with a large section of pipe in her hands. She had fiery, russet-red hair, and bright, ocean-blue eyes. Her figure was rather slender, with an ample chest, and well-defined hips. She was wearing a simple green dress which reached to her knees, over a pair of black leggings, with a black hoodie. She slowly lowered the pipe, probably now sure that Medusa was unconscious. Kid had finally regained his breath enough to speak.

"Thank you," he panted. She smiled at him, and tapped the pipe against her thigh.

"You're welcome! She looked like she was about to get you." She held out her hand. "I'm Euryale."

"Death the Kid." He took her hand and shook.

"Ah. You're the leader of the Children of Death."

"Yes, I am."

Euryale smiled, and gestured to Medusa, who they had now dragged outside the Crescent. They decided to prop her against a brick wall. It was dishonorable to kill your enemy when they were helpless, even in the streets, and Kid wanted to defeat her fairly.

"I've been trying to get rid of the Gorgons for a while, now, too. I'm a floater, but I'll often ally with gangs to carry out with activities. I do quite a bit of sneakwork, and if you'd be interested, I could help you and the Children gather information on the Gorgons."

Kid arched an eyebrow in thought. "Yes, that would be useful. So you are loyal to my father's cause?"

The girl shrugged, and smiled slyly. "I'm pretty sure most people don't want their soul eaten."

"Mmm, yes. I agree."

Euryale nodded. "I'm glad I met you, Kid."

The shinigami smiled. "I'm glad I met you, too. Would you like to meet the Children?" He asked, as they came upon his apartment complex. His new friend beamed.

"I would love to!"

"Great. Follow me." He led her inside, and up the stairway, to where the apartments of the Children resided. He opened the door to find his entire gang with exception of the two missing members gathered round his and Maka's coffee table, engaged in a game of Bridge. All stopped and looked up, and Maka ran up and kissed and hugged Kid, her relief very obvious, before turning to Euryale. "Who's this?" The young woman beamed, and looked around at the now-silent room.

"I saved Kid from Medusa. My name's Euryale. Nice to meet you!"


	5. Severed Ghosts

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

_The Undead Young_ Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

_Young_ lyrics copyright (c) 2008 Hollywood Undead. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics

* * *

**A/N:** Guess who's baaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaack~!

First of all I am really, really, really, reeeaaaally, REALLY, REALLY REALLY REEEEAAAAAALLY, REEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLYY YYYYYYYY sorry I haven't updated this fic in . . . like . . . two years. ""XD A lot has happened in that time; I've gotten into a lot of other fandoms (most notably Pandora Hearts), I have a boyfriend now, and more than anything, I've become a better writer.

But, I've decided to dedicate myself to this story now. I've prewritten this story up to chapter 8, and there will be twelve chapters in total, so I only have five more chapters to go. c: I'll be holding myself to a roughly two-week update schedule, so expect chapters in that general time frame.

I've also done some revision to the first three chapters which you may want to read (especially since it's been so long, I bet none of you remember what happened last ""XD), as there were some significant changes plotwise, especially to chapters 1 and 2, which I wrote before I had an actual plot in mind, long ago in the start of my fanfiction writing career.

I will be doing National Novel Writing Month throughout November, thus the two-week update cycle; it's to sustain you guys through the month. ^^ But I shall work on the last five chapters after November is over.

But yes! YOU MAY ALL CELEBRATE FOR I HAVE UPDATED UNDEAD YOUNG, AND I SHALL UNTIL THIS PROJECT IS COMPLETE~! WHOOOOT~!

More than anything, I hope my old readers can enjoy this chapter as though I had update a week ago, and not two years ago. So, as always . . .

Enjoy~!

* * *

**Chapter 4:**** Severed Ghosts**

_I hear the hate in all your words,  
__all the wars to make us hurt.  
__We get so sick, oh so sick,  
__we never wanted all this,  
__medication for the kids with no reason to __live!_

Maka woke the next day, to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. She inspected the chunks of light and listened to Kid breathe, and mulled over the girl he had brought home. This Euryale who had stepped in so perfectly, at just the right time, to save him from Medusa. She furrowed her brows, and ran a finger over the bedspread. It all seemed too suspicious—floaters were rare and far between. Most kids found a group and stuck with it, out of fear and out of survival instinct.

She felt her mate shift behind her, and turned to see Kid watching her. "Morning, Anata."

"Morning." He sat up and stretched, forcing several things to pop.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Er . . . I'm worried . . ."

"About?"

"This girl . . . Euryale."

"I see . . ." He leaned back against the headboard. "You know, I can see people's souls. She has a good one."

"I know. I looked too. But still . . . it seems weird."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

"Alright . . ."

Kid got up and stretched again, before he relaxed and went over to the closet to begin picking out clothes. Maka watched him, as he pulled on a t-shirt, jeans, and a suit jacket, and hoped that it really would be okay. If things turned out badly, she wasn't sure she could forgive him for it. Despite his past, he was still too trusting, too naive, at times. She played it up to the fact that he was a god—he had to believe in people like they believed in him. She still believed it to be a dangerous way to live on these streets.

They made their way downstairs, and Maka started on breakfast—pancakes and eggs. Kid woke Crona gently, who was asleep on the couch. She perked up as soon as she smelled the food, and proceeded to cling to her Nii-san. Maka smiled at the pair. It made her happy to see them together like this, especially Crona. There was a knock at the door, and Kid opened it to accommodate Soul and the Thompsons.

"What's up?" Her brother smiled down at Crona, who was taking refuge behind Kid's legs.

"She's still really shy. So, I talked to Euryale last night, and we're meeting her at the Crescent."

"Alright, awesome."

"Mmm."

Maka scowled over her shoulder. "You better not be wrong about this, Kid."

"I know." He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I won't be. Things will be fine."

"Uh-huh."

"If I am, I'll make sure you're all safe."

"If you say so."

"Don't be like that, darling."

"Save it. That doesn't work on me."

Maka pulled the last of the pancakes off, and began setting up places for everyone. They all sat down to eat, and the conversation turned to talk of Black Star and Tsubaki. They were all worried and anxious for their friends, and the rumors that had been spreading didn't sit well. Kid was tired of being chewed out for missing two of his gang members, and Maka still blamed herself, despite the assurances of her boyfriend. All were pinning their hopes on Euryale.

"So, we received a tip off that they were found in the Shibusen District, near the business area . . . so we should probably start looking there."

"Alright." Soul nodded musingly, considering this.

Liz peeked over at the map they had laid out on the table, between the breakfast dishes. "It sucks that we're short two people, and yet we have one more female. Pairs will be an issue."

"Yeah . . . we could ask allies. I'm sure they would be happy to help."

"They'll ask for something back, though." Maka mused. "It _is_ our responsibility for ourselves, and they're not happy with the fact that we missed two of our members."

"It's just my responsibility, Maka."

"No it's not." She narrowed her eyes stubbornly. "It's as much my fault as it is yours."

He sighed, and rubbed his fingers into his temples. "Okay, sure. Whatever. It's your fault, too."

Maka bit her lip, and pointed at a spot in the Shibusen district. "I think Kid and I can start here, and Liz and Soul can start here . . ." She pointed elsewhere. "And then Patti and another boy can look near the school, and Euryale and a boy can look by the school residences. That way we could all cover the entire district."

"How are we gonna describe them?" Liz asked. "I don't think we have any photographs for them. I know we had that throwaway camera, but that film hasn't been developed, yet."

"We could develop it before we start looking."

"No." Kid interceded, "We don't have the money to spare right now, with Black Star's speed addiction. He's been spending a lot of it, and we don't have enough income sources to afford it."

"He's gonna have to give it up, isn't he?"

Kid sighed, and golden eyes contacted with the table as he found interest in the wood. "He will. And we certainly can't afford any crap like rehab. I think it will be healthier for him anyhow. It creates problems in his relationship with Tsubaki, and it's bad for his body."

Soul arched an eyebrow. "And what about everyone's smoking habit? That's also expensive, and it's also unhealthy."

"I think we're going to quit." Maka's eyes found Crona, who was in the next room, coloring. "Especially now that we have a child living with us, and we have no idea what we're going to do for her, at this point."

"That's a fair point," Kid agreed. "And you'll quit bugging me about my poor health."

Maka nodded. "It interferes with my dancing, anyway. I don't smoke as much as you, but still."

"I see."

"Right." Soul sat back, and clapped his hands together. "We best get going, then. Don't wanna miss out on any important or relevant information before it passes us up. They could be anywhere."

Kid nodded. "Alright."

Maka stood, and began cleaning up the dishes. She mused over where her friends could be, and hoped they were okay. The Thompsons and Soul cleared out to go find volunteers to help them within the apartment building, and Kid went to talk to Crona and show her some things about art. She watched the two, and smiled as Kid gave Crona a crayon, and showed her how to crosshatch, keeping the lesson simple and to the point, so her child's mind would understand him.

She couldn't get over how well he would do as a father, and she wondered at what the future held. Would they get married, or have children? It wasn't something she liked to dwell on. Musing on adulthood was rarely done on the Plaza, because it wasn't a guarantee that kids would live past eighteen. But still. She liked to think that things would turn out okay, especially since Kid was the heir to Shibusen.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

The Children left their building several minutes later, and set out with several other volunteers for the Crescent. Maka looked around as they walked through the city, watching as vendors called to them to look at their items, and the many people out walking, fighting, living. Life on the Death Circuit Plaza never ceased, and the nights and days were filled with the constant noise of the street population.

Kid wrapped an arm around Maka, possessively, and she smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. It was good to feel loved. The sky was a typical Nevada blue—the color of summer and purity. She watched the dilapidated massive buildings that stood to either side of the Plaza, the beautiful destruction stark against the bright color. The Plaza was across two levels in Death City, at the back of the circular metropolis. Most people couldn't see it when they first entered the city, and the slums of Death City weren't as famous as its school—not many were aware that they existed.

Maka opened her mouth, to ask where they would be going to develop the film, when they heard a shout, sharp against the air. They all stopped, and there was suddenly a flash from beyond. Maka's eyes widened as she heard an unearthly, hair-raising scream. That certainly wasn't human or animal, so it could only mean one thing. She reached out a hand.

"Soul, let's go!"

"Right!"

He transformed, and she caught him easily as he found his way home into her hand. She spun him, and started off running, Kid and his guns right behind her. They turned a corner, and the screaming grew louder. She looked around, and her ears pinpointed the sounds down an alley. She followed it, and found a pre-Kishin facing away from her. It was slung low on its limbs, and its body was stretched grotesquely, beyond what was normal for human anatomy. It clicked a scorpion-like tail over its back, and pincers had twisted from human hands. Maka narrowed her eyes, and raised Soul.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

She charged it, and the scythe blade was swung into the pre-Kishin's back with a resounding thump. It screeched and turned, and Maka felt goosebumps rise as it stared at her with large, black eyes. She noticed for the first time that there was a teenage boy huddling against the brick wall at the back of the alley, his arm raised with what appareled to be a bo staff. That explained the flash—the pre-Kishin must have jumped the meister and weapon pair for their more powerful souls. She pulled Soul out with a dreadful squelching sound, and spun him back around to hack at its neck.

The creature suddenly fell away underneath her, and she was surprised to see it had slunk to the other side of the alley, nearer to the boy. It moved again, its body collapsing in on itself and slithering away when the meister swung at it with his partner. Maka cringed. That was a new trick. Pre-Kishin typically had no more abilities than a meister or weapon if they had consumed any. Bending its body like that wasn't normal.

She brought Soul up as it popped up and flicked its tail, sending an array of spikes at them. She outran them, and blocked it off as it nearly walloped her with a pincer. She ducked, and fell back farther, to the mouth of the alley, and hoped that she could lure it away from the boy. Kid had been holding back, as the alley only had so much room and he didn't want to hit anyone human by mistake, but he pulled out his guns and began to shoot. The pre-Kishin screamed again, and lunged for the Shinigami, who skittered back and leapt on top of a vending table, keeping it away with his gunshots. The soul pulses seemed to agitate it much more than Maka's blows, and it collapsed and slithered back.

Maka watched it, and followed it closely along the ground. She saw its sides pulse as it made to reform itself, and landed a sharp blow to the rough location of its head. It screeched and stayed down. She stepped on it, and swung Soul down with a loud cry, cleanly slicing at it. It began to writhe as Maka withdrew Soul. She couldn't slice cleanly through without hitting cement and giving her weapon a concussion, so she continued to hack at the creature.

All at once, it suddenly reformed, and she was surfing its back, trying to keep her balance. Its skin was slimy and slippery, and she dug Soul in to keep from falling off. The thing roared and jerked, and its tail suddenly came up and walloped her hard. She gasped and was sent flying. She landed on her feet, glad to find that the part of its tail that had hit her was too low for the venomous spikes.

Kid suddenly rushed past her, and leapt up. He put two shots into its head at the back of what should have been the neck, and the creature howled again. It began to writhe as Kid landed, and suddenly collapsed into hazy black smoke. The substance whirled and torrented, and the glow of a Kishin Egg flickered into existence. Kid took a deep breath, and walked over. Soul transformed back, and began checking Maka for injuries. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine!"

"You better be. Did you not hear me telling you to avoid jumping on it?"

"Oh . . . um . . . yeah. Sorry."

He sighed. "It's fine. Just don't scare me like that again."

She smiled. "You know I will."

Soul just poked her in the stomach and went back to checking that she had no ankle sprains. Maka rolled her eyes at her overprotective brother, and looked up to see Kid plucking the Egg out of the air. She bit her lip as her eyes took in yellow and green rippling across the normal red of the soul. It was another pre-Kishin that had been infected with phasmatalphamine. She stared at her hands, and watched as she curled them into fists. How many innocent students would be turned into pre-Kishin? What could Shibusen possibly hope to achieve by exploiting something so dangerous and unstable?

Kid came back, cradling the soul in his hands. It felt like a typical Kishin Egg—it was warm to the touch, and its surface was slightly damp. It was soft and squishy, and he squeezed it gently. He looked up as the boy who had been victimized walked over, staring at the soul curiously. His weapon transformed and reformed beside the meister. It was another boy, with brown hair and forest green eyes, unlike his partner of Japanese nationality. The bo staff saw the soul, and gasped.

"What is that?"

Kid cringed. "It's just a Kishin Egg. Don't worry about it—it's my soul anyway since I killed it."

The weapon arched an eyebrow. "It looks rather strange to me."

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Hey. Aren't you the leader of the Children of Death?"

"Yes."

"I heard those rumors about your friends . . . two of them, right? And they have a case of Soul Crank."

"It's just a rumor," Maka said.

"Yeah, but there are witness accounts."

"And witnesses exaggerate to make things more interesting." Maka stared the boy down.

"I want the soul."

"No." Kid pulled it closer to him. "It's . . . weapons shouldn't have this."

"Why not?"

"There's something going on at Shibusen . . . I can't tell you."

The boy stepped forward stubbornly. He was young—probably only twelve or thirteen, but he moved right into Kid's face, standing on tiptoe so he could look Kid in the eyes. "I don't believe you. You just want it for yourself."

Kid scoffed. "I am a Death God. I can't afford to be selfish."

"Then give me the soul."

"No. It's dangerous. We have no idea what it will do to a weapon."

"Hah. I knew it! You _are_ just hoarding it!"

"No, you don't un—" Kid felt the boy snatch the soul, suddenly. "Stop! No, don't eat it! You'll turn into a—"

Too late, the boy opened his mouth and stuffed it down his throat. He swallowed, and tilted his head curiously as he took in the flavor. Kid cringed, and held his hands out for his weapons to transform. Suddenly, the bo staff yelled and nearly collapsed, but his partner caught him. The weapon was thrashing about and convulsing. Everyone stepped back, as the meister laid his weapon down.

"Wh—what's going on?!" he asked fearfully.

"That pre-Kishin wasn't normal . . . it was a test subject for phasmatalphamine, also known as Soul Crank."

Kid seemed to wilt as he watched the poor weapon thrash and scream. There were bursts of light sparking off of him now, and parts of his body were transforming from human to weapon, back and forth. His screams were increasing in volume, as he seemed to be utterly consumed by the roar of the Kishin Egg's power, and suddenly, there was a burst of streaking light from the center of his chest.

The Children stepped back, eyes wide, as they recognized the first stage of a transformation into a Death Scythe. A ring of light sparked around the boy, power crackling in the air as his wavelength readjusted. Maka could feel it shifting, expanding as the powers settled. The transformations had calmed, and the boy had stopped screaming. In fact, he was smiling and staring in awe at his hands.

There was a last surge of power, and with it, the transformation cycle initiated, and the bo staff reformed in his meister's hands. Where before he had simply been a plain ebony-wood staff, now the ends were tipped with gold, and intricate designs played all across the wood's surface, with carvings of nature and power. The meister stared in shock, as did everyone else.

"I—I can't believe it. It turned you into a—a—a Death Scythe?"

"Damn, this is awesome!" The boy's image appeared in one of the gold tips. "I never thought this would happen!"

Kid sighed. "That was still dangerous. You could have gone insane or been killed!"

"Eh, yeah, yeah. I'll be fine."

"Alright . . . I guess you two are good, then. Happy training."

"Yep."

Kid sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair. This was an interesting development, and one none of them had remotely expected. He stared at Maka, who shrugged and looked worried. Soul was watching the meister and weapon pair, a look of slight interest on his face. Maka narrowed her eyes.

"Don't even think about it. It's too dangerous."

"I know. It's just . . ."

"Don't. We don't know if it would work like this for every weapon. This drug is unpredictable."

"Yeah . . ."

"We need to go," Liz said. "We're late."

"Ah, right." Kid beckoned to them. "C'mon, let's go."

Soul and Maka followed Kid and the Thompsons, as they continued through the city. Her mind was back with the meister and weapon pair, who had set right to practicing in the middle of the street, ignoring the annoyed vendors who kept yelling at them to stop distracting the business. The Children started in the direction of the Crescent, and Maka took one last glance at the pair over her shoulder. She turned back, and fell into step beside Kid once again, leaning into his side. He reached into his pocket and drew out his pack, taking a cigarette and lighting it habitually. She sighed, and took one of her own. Even where they tried to quit, it was still a habit they retained. At least until they purchased nicotine patches.

The Crescent loomed over them as they came upon it, and Maka tilted her head back to take in the brick front of the building, painted black. She would be dancing that evening, and she hoped the revenue brought in would bring enough money to them, since they had been having trouble making ends meet of late. She wanted the best for her gang, and for Crona. The thought of the girl made her smile.

Euryale was sitting at the bar when they entered, nursing a beer and watching the door. She smiled as soon as they walked in, and slid off the stool. Kid smiled back, and walked over to her. Maka watched the girl perceptively, watching the flicker and wave of her soul. She hoped the girl was trustworthy and worth their time. She couldn't stand it if this all turned into naught.

"So, guys. Are we ready to start looking?"

Kid nodded. "Yes. We have a plan in place. You'll be going with Ox, here, and you'll be looking near the residential area. They're in the Shibusen District—I was told the commercial area, but I don't know if they've moved since then. They could even be traveling back here to the Plaza."

"If they're smart, they'll stay put." Euryale stared at her nails, and sipped her beer idly. "I'm sure we'll find them quickly, though. You're meisters, right? So you'll have Perception?"

Her sapphire-blue eyes flickered up through auburn bangs. Kid noticed for the first time that she had freckles across her nose. He pulled Maka in closer, and shook the thoughts from his head.

"Yes. Though, with so many souls in the city, it makes it hard to find specific people. We're both still young enough that it's not fully developed, though Maka's Perception is superior to mine."

"But you're a shinigami."

He shrugged. "That doesn't matter. There are meisters who have better abilities. But the powers of a god are enough in exchange for a weaker meister ability."

"I see." Her eyes flickered to Maka. "Let's get started."

"Right. Okay, guys, we already know who's going with who. Let's go."

The group traveled to the Shibusen District by foot, and soon, everyone had separated and begun their search. They had developed the throwaway camera film at a local grocery store, and soon they were toting pictures of Black Star and Tsubaki to passerby. Maka couldn't help but stare at the people who passed. They were all around the age of the Children, meisters and weapons their ages, all Shibusen students. Maka could perceive their souls, and she would name them. Meister, meister, sword, meister, halberd, another and another meister. She wondered how it was that they could be so oblivious to the very God of Death in their presence, and why they weren't aware of his distinct features.

But then again, she had heard of the naivety of the Shibusen student body. Hell, most of them were willing to be test subjects for a drug that didn't guarantee safe life or sanity. It made her cringe, and it made her sad. It was all an awful, victimizing fluke. She knew Kid's father had trusted a man called Dr. Franken Stein to run the school after he was gone, and that trust had been annihilated in the absence of God. She just hoped Shinigami-sama was watching and helping from heaven.

Kid turned for the umpteenth time, and held up the picture to a boy and a girl as they passed. "Excuse me. Have you seen these kids?"

They stopped, regarding them warily. They were a meister and scythe pair, just like Maka and Soul. The girl bit her lip, and peered at the photograph curiously. "Ah . . . oh. Oh! I think I have!"

Kid latched on. "You have? Where?"

"Uum . . . by the commercial place . . . where they have all the shops." She waved her hands vaguely. "Are you Shibusen students?"

Kid ignored her question. "When did you last see them?"

"Uh, this morning. On the way to school. I had stopped to buy banana bread for breakfast. They had this case with them."

"I see . . ." Kid glanced at Maka, then back at the girl. "Thank you."

"Are you Shibusen students?"

"Let's go, Maka."

His large hand engulfed her small one, and she was dragged away in the direction Kid walked. Maka stared at the Shibusen students for a long time, before she glanced at his face. His brows were furrowed, his jaw tense and set. His golden eyes were following the sidewalk as they walked, and Maka found herself squeezing his hand and leaning into him. He leaned back, and Maka offered him a wan smile.

"Shibusen students are good kids."

"I know."

"You'll gain your place, someday. You're the heir."

He nodded. "Yes. I know that, too. It's just . . ."

"You wish you were there now."

He tilted his head back. He stared at a passing cloud. He ran fingers through his sanzu lines, taking the strands and holding them before his eyes. "I miss Chichiue."

"I know."

"I wish he were alive."

"I know that, too."

"I should be over it, by now. It was six years ago."

"Sometimes, you don't move past things, Anata."

"Yeah . . ."

They eventually made it the commercial area, and they began to ask people. The shop fronts and vending stalls were much like what they had seen on the streets of the Death Circuit Plaza, set up everywhere. Only here, there were no children running about without supervision. People didn't carry weapons everywhere they went. Everyone was polite and no one scowled or made death threats. Prices were fixed. Young people smiled and were healthy and happy.

Kid watched it all, and he tried not to be distracted by memory. Here he could see the ghost of a young boy and his father, holding hands as they perused the shops, idly and casually stopping to chat or say hello. Everyone smiled at the father and complimented the child. He turned away and tried to focus on Perceiving Black Star or Tsubaki, but he swore he could see the pair following them from the corner of his eyes, in the shadows of memory.

Maka suddenly tapped him. "I sense them! This way!"

It was her turn to grab his hand, and drag him away. Kid followed, and his Perception pinpointed after hers, following the spiritual direction. He could sense their wavelengths easily, now that he knew where they actually were, and the couple was led straight there. Black Star was sitting back against an alley, and Tsubaki was standing just outside it, buying some churros from a vendor. She looked up when her weak Perception picked up the familiar wavelengths. Maka smiled and waved, and rushed over, pulling her best friend into a hug.

"Look at you. You're perfectly fine. I was so worried . . . how's Black Star? Where is he?"

"I'm right here." The boy peeked around the corner of the alley. "I feel awful."

"I'm sorry."

"I need crank."

Maka narrowed her eyes. "No, you don't. You need to go off it."

"Only if you and Kid quit smoking, first."

She sighed. "I'm just glad you two are okay."

Kid was still pensive, and Tsubaki only drew his attention when she laid a hand on his arm. "I'm glad you found us. We have things to discuss."

He blinked, and forced his eyes to focus on hers. "What things?"

"Uh, well . . ." Black Star hoisted a large black case from behind him, showing a sliver of it from around the alley wall. "This."

Kid arched an eyebrow, and walked closer. "The rumors were true?"

"Yes." Tsubaki wrung her hands. "And we don't know what to do with it. We don't even know what it is."

Kid sighed, and rubbed his eyes. He looked across at a coffee shop, Deathbucks, where a father and son sat outside to enjoy iced tea and chocolate muffins. He turned away, and stared at the obsidian of the case. He walked over, and took it. Black Star took the hand the shinigami proffered, and hoisted himself to his feet. Kid bit his lip, and weighed the case in his hand.

"We need to destroy it."

"We don't even know what it is."

"It's Soul Crank," Maka said. "It's this awful drug that Shibusen is experimenting with."

"Huh. I see. And?"

"It . . . it hasn't worked, yet. They use their own students as test subjects." Maka cringed, as she felt the soul of a rifle, of a couple of meisters, of a gun pass. "It has yet to work properly. It only kills students or turns them into pre-Kishin so far."

Black Star nodded, and Tsubaki bit her lip in concern. "You said . . ."

"What?" Kid asked.

"That pre-Kishin that attacked the girls at the Crescent, in the middle of a performance. Its soul was off . . ."

"It was the wrong color."

"I see . . ."

"Yellow and green and red. Its wavelength is awful and unsettling—more so than the typical Egg. Another one attacked today."

"It did?"

"Yes. In the Plaza, near the Crescent. A weapon ate the soul."

Tsubaki's eyes widened, her lips parting in concern. "Were they okay?"

"It turned him into a Death Scythe. Crazy, I know."

"Weird . . ."

"HA! The great me better get my hands on something like this! I BET I COULD HANDLE THE DRUG!"

"No!" Kid drew the case away as Black Star stepped forward. "I forbid anyone of the Children to so much as touch this case, besides me. We are not risking what we can't afford. It has yet to work, and I'm not gambling with it."

Black Star narrowed his eyes. Kid narrowed them right back, daring his member to insubordinate a direct order from the gangleader. Black Star eventually turned away. "Whatever. C'mon, let's get home."

Tsubaki shot Kid an apologetic stare, her eyebrows knit in concern and her forehead creased in worry. Kid waved a hand to notify her that he had let it go already. Maka followed the shinigami as the four of them made for the meeting place they had designated before going to search. The party had agreed to meet at the foot of the Shibusen stairs every hour to check in, in case one of them found Black Star and Tsubaki.

Maka watched Kid again, and sighed. She hadn't missed the way he had looked at the city. The Shibusen District was his heart and his childhood. Here was where he had lived for most of his life, up until his father had been murdered. It was his people, his rightful citizens, that walked here, and Maka could see the way it hurt him that they held no recognition. It hurt her too.

She simply hoped for the best, and for their future.

* * *

"I think we need to destroy it."

"But we could use it against our enemies."

"But this substance has caused more grief than help. I think it's best we get rid of it."

"Do we even know how to?"

Kid stared at the case on the table. Euryale arched an eyebrow. The shinigami shook his head, and pushed the case further onto the oak. "No. But we can try."

"Think about what it could do to get rid of the Gorgons . . . they want it just as much as any other gang."

"I know."

"So, we should use it as bait. They don't know I know you. Medusa didn't see me knock her out. I could earn their trust, and be a double agent."

Maka suddenly froze, and stared at the other girl suspiciously. She had been cooking a huge pot of rice, which she meant to turn into a batch of onigiri. She didn't like the way the redhead had suggested the idea. Silky, sly, persuading. It made her fighter's instinct ring. She hadn't liked this girl from the start, and it wasn't simply because of the way she admired the ever-attractive Kid. The soul that pulsated within this girl made her uneasy, even as it seemed perfectly clean.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Euryale's slanted eyes turned on the scythe meister. "Why?"

Maka shrugged, and adjusted the temperature of the rice cooker. "Double agents are suspicious to me."

"You don't trust me. Do you."

". . . no."

Maka looked Kid's way, and she didn't like the way his eyes seemed hurt. She knew he felt like she didn't trust him, but it wasn't at all that. It was the woman sitting at their table and casually suggesting conspiracies and manipulation and sowing chaos. It made her stomach churn. She drew parallels between those suggestions and the beliefs of a witch, and she watched the way Euryale would whisper and cajole and manipulate. It worried her. It scared her. It made her think twice about Kid's trust in her. But she didn't want to start any fights.

"Look. I'm sorry. There are certain things that just . . . I dunno. I'm sorry, Kiddo-kun."

He flinched at the pet name, and Maka looked up to find him looking away. He didn't like this. She was hurting him. Maka sighed, and finished fiddling with the kitchen utensils and the bag of dried rice. She walked over and sat down next to Kid. He looked back up, his oval face drawn and disturbed. She took his hand and squeezed it, gently.

"I trust you. And even if I don't trust the people you do, doesn't mean I'm going to let it get in the way of our relationship. Just . . . be careful. And I'm sorry I don't feel well about you, Euryale."

The girl shrugged. "It's okay. A lot of people are like that when they first meet me. But they warm up, eventually."

Maka nodded. "Alright. Well, let's hope I do."

Kid nodded. "If we're going to use this, then we need a plan."

"What do you have in mind, Anata?"

"I say we trap them. Get me a pencil and paper, I have an idea."

* * *

The next day brought rare and precious rain, the first of the May wet season rolling in on the rough clap of thunder and sharp slice of lightning. Maka woke slowly, and threw an arm across her face as she saw the grey light trickling between the green curtains. She was a native Nevadan, born and bred, so of course she had a natural aversion to rain. The weather made her lethargic. Kid stirred beside her, and sat up.

"What is it?"

Maka pointed at the window. "The wet season."

"Oh. We finally have our first rain?"

"Yeah. It sucks."

"Ah . . . I know you hate this kind of weather."

"I wish we had more money."

"You want McDonalds?" He laughed. "I wish we could afford it right now, but we need to put our money into groceries at the moment."

"I know."

"You'll be fine."

"Yeah . . ."

"C'mon. Up. We have errands to run, and strategies to set up."

"Okay."

"Are you working tonight?"

"Nope."

"Damn. I was hoping to sell art today, but now I can't."

"Black Star and Soul could always go dealing."

"True . . . I wish we could avoid that."

"We need to survive, Kid."

"I know," he sighed.

She patted his hand. "I think we should get some toys for Crona, too. She's bored."

"Agreed."

Maka sat up, and kissed him sweetly, before she stood and stretched. He watched her lazily, and Maka smiled over her shoulder as she went over to their closet to choose clothing. The thought of treating him to a morning strip tease crossed her mind, and she began to undress slowly. Crona could sleep a little longer, she thought. She was tugging off her pajama bottoms, when there was a knock on their bedroom door.

"Oi. We have to go get the groceries now. Nygus came by and let us know that they're predicting flooding by this late afternoon. So we better move it before it's a problem."

Maka sighed. "Alright, Liz. We'll be out soon."

"Okay. You two better behave."

"We will. We are."

Kid had gotten up, and was dressing now, right alongside Maka. Soon, they were both ready. Breakfast had simply been some quick toast and cereal, and Crona was taken with them to the grocery store. Soul was staying behind, along with Tsubaki, both of which were looking over Kid's plan for the trap, and gathering the materials needed for it. Maka smiled as Crona skipped a long, holding to her's and Kid's hands as she walked between them. Of all things, Maka wanted to be a mother the most. She wanted to give her future children the best she could.

The city was busy as ever, and the couple kept the little girl between them. It was important that she not run off, lest something bad happen to her. Maka's attention was caught, suddenly, as she heard her name called. She looked ahead to see her friend Kilik waving at her, two twin girls clinging to his legs. Maka smiled, and let go of Crona's hand.

"You keep an eye on her, Anata."

"Yep." Kid walked ahead, aware that Kilik could walk her to the grocery store if need be.

Maka ran up to her friend. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing much. I thought I'd call you over—haven't seen you in forever."

"Yeah. Huh, it's been like a month, hasn't it? And how are dear little Fire and Thunder?" she asked, crouching to hug the twin boy and girl.

"They're doing well. Fire said his first word."

"Really?!"

"Yeah."

"What was it?"

Kilik blushed, suddenly. "'Daddy . . .'"

"D'awwwww. That's adorable."

"Mm. It's hard, though . . . I saw you with that little girl. Crona, is it?"

"Yes. She's the daughter of Medusa—we just found her on the street. She was so drugged up . . ."

Kilik narrowed his eyes and scoffed. "That's just awful. There's so many young kids we see, these days . . . people abandon their babies . . ."

"I know."

She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. She didn't want to think about it. That had been how Kilik had found the Pots. He had heard the crying below his window, and gone out to see what it was.

They began walking. Thunder tugged on Maka's tank top, and she smiled and picked up the child, who nuzzled her shoulder and cooed at being held. They had just turned one, she knew, and they were growing fast and well. Kilik's gang were doing their best to raise the two, and thus far, they were doing a good job.

Maka trailed a bit ahead, knowing Kilik was still keeping an eye on her. Eventually, Thunder squirmed, and Maka let her down to run back and forth between her surrogate father and Maka. The child made her smile, and laugh. She kept glancing back over her shoulder, as the baby ran back and forth, giggling and squealing and clapping her hands. Maka was too distracted to notice or sense the man laying in wait.

Kilik looked up, and suddenly Maka was gone. He panicked. "Crap! MAKA, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

She gasped as the hands muffled her mouth, and a knife was pressed to her throat. This was bad. This was really, really bad. She began to struggle, but the knife was pressed farther into her throat. The man before her leered, and she whimpered as he began to claw at her shirt. She closed her eyes, and hoped for Kilik's timely arrival.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

THWACK.

Maka opened her eyes to see red hair, and realized she had been let go. She whirled around and laid a right hook into the man who had grabbed her, fighting back-to-back with Euryale. Both girls easily dispatched the three men, and turned to face each other. Maka sighed, relieved.

"Thank God you showed up when you did."

"You need to be more careful."

"Yeah . . . I should have stuck by Kilik."

"Who's Kilik?"

"My friend. What were you doing to see me being attacked?"

"I was just walking by, the other way. Was going to the Crescent."

"Oh . . . why?"

"So. You still don't trust me?"

"I . . ." Maka stared at the girl's blue eyes, red hair, heart-shaped open face. She was standing back on one foot, her weight shifted in that direction. Her hands were slung behind her back, her shoulders hunched. She was anxious, guarded, waiting for what Maka would say.

"I guess I do, now. You saved me."

"Ah. I'm glad."

"And Kid trusts you. So I will, too."

"Good. Now we have that out of the way . . . see ya!"

Maka stared as the girl left, studying the scope and curve of her back. Euryale certainly was an interesting person, and Maka found herself genuinely, truly relaxing. She read the soul. She pictured the face. This girl was alright. She had been stupid to think that she was untrustworthy, when her own boyfriend had put his unconditional trust in her. There was no reason not to—she had done nothing but help the Children thus far.

Maka started walking again, and found Kilik standing outside the alley. "Hey. Sorry about that . . ."

"Don't tell Kid. He'll kill me."

"It's okay. I should have stayed nearer to you and kept more alert."

"Yeah. Anyway, where you headed?"

"Business District. We're going for groceries."

"Ah, cool. I'll walk you there. We were just out to be out, anyway."

"Alright."

Maka looked to the sky.

It was going to rain, again.

* * *

Soul stared at the plans for the trap, and sighed. They had gathered all the weapons and people needed, and they had smoothed out the strategy with everyone this evening. All would simply have to do their best, and do well. It made him anxious, as the head of gang security. He hated it when he had to give up the safety of his friends for a fight. The Gorgons were an ever-elusive and difficult target, and they would not defeat them easily. He rubbed his eyes, and sat back, thinking on taking a shower and going to bed.

A knock on the door made him jump.

He rose, and answered it. "Oh, hey, Tania! What are you doing over here so late?"

"Ah, well . . ." The pretty girl wrung her hands, and shifted on her feet. She was lovely as ever, with her green, exotic hair and violet eyes. Soul blinked his own red ones, as he took in her apparent nerves and shifting stance. He waited. She found his eyes.

"I was wondering . . . if . . . maybe . . . uh . . . we could go for dinner. And a movie. And, yeah . . ."

Soul smiled. "Are you asking me out?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Alright. Tomorrow?"

She beamed. "Sure! Midafternoon?"

"Sounds good. Can't wait to see you, then."

"Me neither!"

Soul beamed, as she skittered off.

* * *

Somewhere, deep under darkness, between the twisted walls of a maze, a witch stared into a crystalline ball, watching the happiness of Soul, the content of Maka, the doting of Kid. She smiled. She brought up an image of the Phasmatalphamine case.

"Only a matter of time."


End file.
